Our Heroes
by jossshii
Summary: Overwatch has been recalled. The few remaining agents all rally to Winston. Those who have no means of transportation to Watchpoint Gibraltar await for the scientist to arrive and pick them up. Soldier 76 is one of the first to make his way to his old team, but the journey may prove more difficult than he first realized.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER!

 _This is a long chapter. The other chapters might not be this long, but I was too excited to stop writing this first one. Every chapter will focus on a different hero, so the next chapter will not be focused on Morrison. Also, I'm going into college soon so once that happens, this story will be delayed for a while. I hope everyone enjoys this story! Constructive criticism is welcomed. But don't eat me alive please :'D. Thank you for reading my crap! Different scenes will be separated by a series of X's_

xxxx

The night was calm in the city of Dorado. The lapping of the slow tide swayed back and forth, in and out, wetting the beach bit by bit. The moon shone brightly, illuminating the sky with various shades of royal blues and blacks; a perfect night. Jack Morrison, infamously known around the world as Soldier 76, swiftly sped walked his way back to his current base of operations: a small, out of commission wine cellar on the outskirts of the city's cliff side. He had just finished dealing with thugs of the Los Muertos gang, but he knew more were out there, hiding like the cancer they were. He'd hunt them till the last if it was the last thing he-

A bright icon appeared on his HUD. It flashed the words 'RECALL: Initiated by agent WINSTON'.

"What the hell?" Morrison muttered under his breath.

The veteran quickly got into the basement of the wine cellar and checked his computer. On the screen, dozens of Overwatch operative faces were facing him, with Winston in the middle. 76 had no web cam, so none of them even knew he was there. They were all conversing about something, but what? What had made Winston recall everyone? And why now?

"So, that's the plan then," began the _scientist_ , "I will use the Gibraltar dropship to get Lena first, and I will update you all on who will be picked up next. For those of you who have proper transportation, make your way here as discretely and safely as you can,"

So many familiar faces were on that screen, faces that Jack hadn't seen in years. Angela, Reinhardt, Torbjorn, Mei, Genji, Jesse, and Lena. All of them were alive, and they all acknowledged Winston's orders in their own way.

"Alright," said Winston, "Prepare yourselves everyone. Today we rebuild Overwatch, our family. I will see you all soon. Good luck,".

The screens all blinked black. But Morrison had so many unanswered questions. What was going on? Why were they recalled? Who were they fighting against? For years 76 had been a vigilante, hopping from country to country, city to city, trying to clean up the scum of the world bit by bit. There was still unfinished business in Dorado. He'd hate to leave the city in the hands of Los Muertos again, but if his team was reassembling, he knew there must be a damn good reason. He needed to get to Gibraltar, before it was too la-

A large rumbling came from nowhere. The soldier quickly drew his pulse rifle, and scanned the area. The rumble came again, and on the third time, he realized it was his stomach. The man hadn't eaten anything for two days. He may have been an augmented soldier, but no amount of physical enhancements could stop the need for nourishment. There was a small restaurant nearby. He'd grab something to go and find a way to Gibraltar as soon as possible. Packing up everything he needed, Morrison destroyed any evidence that he was there, using his pulse rifle to make short work of the computer and anything that could relate back to him. Then he made his way to the restaurant: Panaderia Las Nieblas.

Fortunately, the business was open at these late hours, though he was cutting it close. Morrison reached for the handle, but realized that his current appearance, with the menacing mask and large rifle slung over his shoulder, would probably deter the kind people who worked here. He knew he couldn't part with his rifle, however, so the mask would have to come off. He unhitched his disguise and shoved it into the inside pocket of his jacket. The scars of battle stained his face still, hardly even faded away after years of concealment. He could see his reflection in the windows on the doors, and sighed, remembering the day Reyes had betrayed everyone, betrayed his country, his world, and for what? Was it all worth it Gabriel? Was it worth hurting everyone who cared for you, who valiantly fought by our side during every struggle? Was it worth dying? Jack pushed these painful memories aside, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. That was the past. What matters is here and now. He opened the door, triggering the little bell that was rigged to it. In response, a middle aged woman, wearing a flowing flower apron and her hair knotted into a bun, came rushing to the front desk.

"Alejandra?" she inquired.

Noticing that the six food tall, battle scarred, gray haired man was not who she was expecting, she corrected herself.

"Oh, Perdóneme señor. How may I help you tonight?"

Jack calmly approached the front desk, attempting to smile, something he hadn't done in years.

"Buenas tardes señorita. All I'd like tonight is a large burrito, everything on it, with a small loaf of bread to go, por favor," he politely asked.

The woman nodded, "Si señor. Right away,"

As she made her way to the back, the door flung open once again.

"Mama! I'm home! I got the flou-"

Morrison turned half way, looking at the girl who had just entered. It was that same girl he saved a week ago. She stared back at him, hazel eyes wide with disbelief. A long, awkward silence echoed throughout the room, and then-

"It's you!" Alejandra exclaimed, "It's you it's you it's you it's really you!"

Alejandra ran over to the man who saved her life and scampered all around him, ecstatic about seeing her hero. Morrison couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed, since this girl did cause him to lose track of those Los Muertos punks.

"Alright kid settle down. Yeah yeah it's me," he said.

"But but- it's you! You're Strike Commander Morrison!"

Jack's hadn't been called that title for years.

"Okay kid, easy, easy. How do you even know that?"

Alejandra could still hardly contain herself as she explained.

"After you saved me from Los Muertos, I spent days researching Overwatch, learning more and more about them every day. I dug up as much info as I could, and after reading what there was about you, I just connected the dots! Though it was just a theory, until now! I also have a poster of you up in my room, so I just recognized your face, heh. I had always hoped I would see you again, and now you're here!"

Morrison was impressed. This girl had deduced in mere days what the many governments of the world were still having trouble with to this day: finding out who Soldier 76 was. But something about this troubled him nonetheless. If this girl could find out who he was, surely someone else has by now. But whether someone else has or not, he couldn't do anything about it either way. All he wanted was his food, and transportation to Gibraltar. That was when Alejandra's mother interrupted.

"Ali, how about you repay his kindness by getting him his order?" she asked, handing her a small note with the order written on it.

Alejandra quickly snatched up the note and ran to the kitchen, "Si mama!"

The mother turned to Morrison, eyes soft with gentle glee.

"You saved my daughter's life? Mucho Gracias señor. I am in your debt,"

The two of them sat down at one of the expertly carved mahogany tables, carvings of various flowers engraved into the sides. The questions began.

"What are you doing here? Have you become Dorado's personal police force?" Alejandra's mother asked.

"I'm here to cut out this city's cancer: Los Muertos. I've done all I can to keep them off your streets. They aren't gone yet, and I'm afraid they won't be gone for a while," Jack replied.

"Oh...Porque señor?"

"I've gotten a call from my colleagues. They're reforming Overwatch. I need to find out why. But I swear to you, once that business is taken care of, I will come back and finish what I started here. Your city will be free of Los Muertos. I'm sure that my team will be more than willing to help,"

The mother let out a soft, happy sigh.

"I have faith in you. I would be so happy, to watch mi hija live in a world, not torn apart by hate and violence. You and your Overwatch saved our world once, and I had prayed that you would come and save our world again. I guess my prayers were answered, because here you are,"

76 couldn't help but give a genuine smile seeing this woman happy. It reminded him of when people looked up to Overwatch with hope, full of honor, giving everyone courage and justice. Their compassion for bringing the world peace inspired so many. He was determined to bring harmony back to the world he fought so hard to protect all those years ago. His thoughts were cut short by Alejandra's mother.

"Though some times, I fear I will not live to see that day, to see her grow in such a place… But all I hope is that she lives to experience that world, even if I do not,"

The smile from his lips faded, as Morrison remembered the many lives lost at Overwatch's Swiss headquarters. Brave men and women, like Ana Amari (may she rest in peace) would never see a day like that. It was then that Jack put his gloved hand over Alejandra's mother's hand.

"I swear to you, I will do everything I can to make sure you both see that day. The world can be a better place. It will be a better place,"

That brought a wide, tearful smile to her eyes.

"Gracias señor Morrison. You are truly a hero."

"No señorita," He began, " I'm just a soldier,"

xxxx

"You sure he's in there hombre?"

"Si, positive man. I saw him. Scary mask, leather jacket, huge ass gun. It was definitely him,"

"Alright then. Come on chicos! Let's go get a bounty!"

xxxx

Alejandra had returned with the food, neatly packaged and warm.

"Here you go Strike Commander! A meal fit for a soldier!" she cheered, feeling immense pride.

Morrison couldn't help but chuckle softly as he put the food into his bag.

"Thanks kid. Today you saved my life. I haven't eaten in days," he said, putting his mask back on.

The door slammed open.

"Well I hope you weren't taking that to go!" said an unfamiliar Hispanic voice, "Because you ain't goin' nowhere hombre!"

The three of them turned immediately, Morrison leveling his pulse rifle, Alejandra's mother quickly grabbing her daughter. Before them stood three Los Muertos thugs, each of them with a unique skeleton painting over their faces and arms. Jack could see more thugs outside the store, standing next to something large and mechanical that he couldn't quite make out. The three in front of him chuckled to themselves. It was time for answers.

"What are you punks doing here?!" 76 yelled.

"Us?" said the middle thug, who appeared to be the ring leader of this particular group, "We just want a taste...of that sweet 10 million dollars on your head,"

Morrison growled to himself. Stupid! He put these two in danger just by being here. He should have been more careful of his surroundings, should have seen this coming.

"Get out of my way or I'll run you over like rabid dogs!" he threatened.

The thug put up his hands in sarcastic defense.

"Woah now. I can see that you're _burning_ with anger here amigo. So far be it from me to play with you. But you know what they say, 'play with fire, you're bound to get burned,',"

And that's when Jack smelled it: Kerosene.

The building was set ablaze before their eyes. Los Muertos had doused the restaurant in kerosene, and the fire was quickly spreading to the inside. Alejandra and her mother screamed, seeing their home burn before them. The thugs ran through the doors, but not before Morrison could send a pulse bolt through one of them, making him collapse onto the steps. The flames engulfed the inside of the building now, bits and pieces of burning ceiling falling all around them. Jack turned to see Alejandra and her mother desperately trying to open the back door, leading into the kitchen. At that moment, gun fire started to rip through the building. Alejandra and her mother screamed, ducking behind the counter. Coincidentally, the gun fire cut down the door.

"Go! Now!" 76 ordered.

The three of them bolted for their exit, with fire and bullets coming at them from all sides. Before going through the door frame, Morrison turned and saw the thing he couldn't make out before: a mini gun. He fired off his helix rocket before they had a chance to use it, utilizing his tactical visor to guide his shot through the broken window of the restaurant door. All three rockets impacted the weapon, causing a brilliant explosion of metal and bullets in the center of the Los Muetos group, ripping many of them apart. The gun fire lessened, but still continued to pepper them. Morrison continued running, catching up with Alejandra and her mother. Larger boards of burning wood began to fall on top of them, one causing Alejandra to tip, and another immediately falling and pinning her legs. Bullets continued to assault them.

"Mama! Help me!" cried Alejandra, desperately trying to get the heavy board off of her.

Both her mother and Jack grabbed the log and lifted it off of her, the latter helping her off the ground.

"Mija, are you oka-" her words were cut short, a bullet went right through her back, coming out of her chest.

Time seemed to slow down for both Jack and Alejandra, as they watched in horror as another bullet went through her mother, and another, and another. She fell to the ground, eyes wide, mouth gaping, blood slowly oozing from her wounds. That's when Jack heard the loudest scream he ever heard in his life.

"MAMA!"

Regaining himself, 76 secured his rifle between his backpack and himself, picked up Alejandra with one arm, grabbed her mother with the other arm, and sprinted towards the emergency exit. He could see it was shut, but noticed a window next to it large enough for him to smash through. With the bullets and fire and debris still harassing them, Morrison sprinted as fast as he could, pumping his legs as hard as possible, feeling every muscle ache and scream and burn hotter than the fire surrounding him. Then he jumped, bringing his legs up and in front of him, kicking through the window, glass cascading outwards, glinting with both firelight and moonlight. He hit the ground hard on his back, knocking the breath out of him. He took two small breaths, then looked to Alejandra, covered in soot and scrapes, trembling.

He asked, "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. He nodded and released her. Alejandra rolled onto the ground and got up, trying to catch her breath and calm down. 76, still holding onto her mother, slowly got up and gingerly set her down on the concrete floor. She lost a lot of blood, Morrison could tell. She took quick gasps as blood slowly poured from her wounds, a small stream of blood dripping from her mouth. Alejandra went to her side, grabbing her mother's hand.

"Mama. Oh no no no no!" She cried, holding the hand tightly, tears building up in the bottoms of her eyes.

Her mother looked into her eyes, feeling her strength fade, her life slip away, but she used the last of it all to hold onto her daughter's hand, and say her final words.

"Listen to me, mija," she coughed, "Don't you… ever lose hope. I... had only wished… I could have seen you grow… in a world not torn apart...by hate..." She closed her eyes, still gasping.

"Mama, stay with me, please, don't leave me! Not...not yet. I know you hurt Mama. I know, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I did this to you! I'm sorry!"

She looked back at her daughter, eyes filled with determination.

"No Alejandra, this was -cough- not...not your fault. It was...them… and them alone…" her eyes changed from determination to compassion, "Te amo… Te amo mucho mija, con todo mi corazón. Don't you ever… lose hope..."

The tears fell as Alejandra clenched her teeth together, vision of her mother's face becoming a blur from the tears in her eyes.

"Si Mama, I promise! I won't ever lose hope. I promise..." she squeezed her mother's cold hand tighter.

Her mother smiled, closed her eyes, turned her head, and stopped her gasping. Alejandra shut her eyes, more tears sliding down her cheeks and she held the hand. She shook, and softly cried a prayer. There was no more gunshots, no other sounds but the lapping of the waves, the crackling of the fire, and the praying of Alejandra. Morrison just stood and stared, not being able to do anything, say anything. What could he do? What could he say? Because of him, this woman was dead, and her daughter an orphan. He already broke a promise he made not ten minutes ago. He just kept staring at the tragedy in front of him, the failure of protecting these two. He finally decided what he should do. He stepped forward, next to Alejandra, and stood. She placed her mother's hands gracefully one on top of the other on her still chest. Then she rose, standing perfectly still, not looking up at Morrison.

"Alejandra… I'm so sor-"

"Alexandria," she interrupted.

"What?"

"My mother's name was Alexandria. That name means defender of man. Alejandra means defender of mankind. She gave me that name because she was inspired by Overwatch, by the brave heros who gave their lives to defend mankind,"

There was a short silence between the two, the fire slowly dying down behind them, running out of wood to burn. Then she faced him.

"I'm coming with you!" she announced.

Jack remained silent. She continued.

"I want to learn how to fight, like you, to help you get rid of Los Muertos! To make them pay for taking everything from me! I will not go live in some orphanage, in this place, crawling with psicópatas locos. I want to help you end them! I want my home to be peaceful, just like Mama wanted! You promised her that I would live in a world with no hate or violence. Help me make that happen, por favor,"

Morrison stood there, looking down at the girl, her eyes full of hurt and sorrow, but also hope and courage. He couldn't stop her even if God Himself told him to. He got down on one knee, removed his mask, placed it in his jacket, and looked her right in the eye.

"You listen to me. I made your mother a promise, and now it's broken. So I will make you this promise. I will do everything I can to make Los Muertos pay. I will do everything I can to make sure you live in a world, not torn apart by this mindless violence. But I will not risk your life for all this. You will come with me, but you will not engage in any combat, any violence,"

Alejandra looked down in disappointment, clearly upset from what she was hearing. But then-

"Until you have received extensive training,"

She looked up at him eyes wide.

"Personally carried out by me," he finished.

Without a word, Alejandra wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and hugged him as tight as her thin arms could. He just knelt there for some time, unsure of how to take this in. But he finally got past the awkward feeling and hugged her back. Her small frame shuddered against him; she was crying again. She pulled away from him and wiped her tears.

"First… we have to take care of Mama," she said, looking back at her deceased mother.

76 nodded, and lifted the body off the ground, cradling it in his arms.

"What shall we do?" he gently asked.

xxxx

Alexandria's body was cremated on the beach, her ashes scattered across the ocean. Alejandra told Morrison that was what her mother would want. She said her mother always loved the view of the ocean from their house, and that she would love to live in it if she could. Alejandra said one final prayer, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. The night was warm, with the cool tide providing a perfect balance of temperature. It was perfect for soothing the mind, calming the soul. Morrison just stood and watched, amazed at how composed this twelve year old girl had been this whole time. Any other child would be too shocked to even sit up against a wall. After a few more deep breaths, Alejandra walked over to Jack, looking up at him. He had his mask back on, but he felt she could look right through it. Her gaze was almost piercing.

"What's our next move?" She asked.

"We need to get to Gibraltar. That's where Winston is bringing all the Overwatch agents to," he replied.

"Winston? You mean the monkey?"

"He's not a monkey. He's a scientist. Well, technically he's a gorilla, but that's beside the point. All that matters is we get to Gibraltar. And something's telling me that's going to be harder than I anticipated,"

"We've got lots of boats! Just pick one," said Alejandra, gesturing to the various sail boats across the bay.

"Kid, we have to cross the entire Atlantic Ocean, and then some. A boat isn't going to cut it. Unless we get some kind of air superiority, we aren't going anywhere soon,"

Almost on cue, a seaplane was making it's decent onto the ocean, sending large splashes of water into the night sky, the droplets shining off of the light of the moon. 76 and Alejandra stared in disbelief.

"Well I'll be damned," Morrison said.

xxxxx

Okay! So first Overwatch fic. For those of you who have no idea who Alejandra is, she's the girl in the Overwatch cinematic "Hero". I worked for two days on this thing, and stayed up till four o clock AM on the last day hahaha! I hope you all enjoy it. Not sure when the next one is coming, hopefully within this week, maybe going into the next. I will try to have a schedule for this because I hate reading fics that aren't finished and people do'nt continue them (feels bad man). So I will do what I can to keep this alive. Thank you all who eventually read it! :D don't forget to criticize!


	2. Chapter 2

Okay so a little mix up. I looked up Gibraltar and thought that it was in England because it said it was an English overseas territory, but after doing further reading, I found it's actually a part of Spain. whooops Anyway, Enjoy this chapter! Maybe… possibly… please :D

xxxx

Winston's dropship gently cruised through the air, piloted by his artificial intelligence partner, Athena. The scientist still looked out the windows of the cockpit, however, not to detect any incoming projectiles, but to just enjoy the view. He had been cooped up in Gibraltar for quite some time, so getting out was quite the change. He honestly couldn't believe what was happening, and that he was the one who initiated it. Bringing back Overwatch, who would have guessed?

"Athena, status report," he ordered politely.

The AI replied immediately, "Entering King's Row now Winston. We are almost over the coordinates provided by Agent Oxton,"

Winston, knowing that he was well within comm range of Lena, activated his comlink and set it to her frequency.

"Lena, We're approaching your location. Get into position so we can make a quick getaway before anyone notices us,"

Her voice resonated through his ears, "Roger big guy! Just open the hangar door and fly by. I'll blink in!"

"Roger that," replied Winston.

Winston told his AI copilot to bring them low, but still airborne over the LZ. He then opened the hanger bay door, and before he realized, his friend was already on board, cheery smile and all.

"Winston!" shouted Lena, blinking over to her long lost friend, hugging him, hanging off of his neck.

"Hahaha! It's good to see you too Lena," chuckled Winston as he closed the hangar door.

Tracer released the gorilla, beaming brightly at him, "It's been so long! We have so much to catch up on,"

"Indeed we do. But first, we must update everyone on our progress," he replied, turning on the communications array.

On the screen, only Reinhardt's, Genji's, and McCree's cams appeared, which was a little unsettling to Winston, but he was sure the others had logical reasons as to why they were not responding.

"Everyone, I've just picked up Lena," announced Winston, with Lena standing next to him, happily waving and smiling.

Reinhardt, Genji, and McCree gave their greetings to their old, time warping friend.

"Glad to see you in one piece fraulein!" exclaimed the armored knight, currently not adorning his helmet. The scar over his eye still seemed fresh, but the jolly veteran smiled with delight.

Tracer giggled and replied, "Nice to see you too Reihnie. How's Bridgette?"

"Brigitte! How are you doing?!"

"I'm doing fine, Reinhardt," replied a voice off screen.

"She's doing fine. Hey! Look who else is here!"

At that moment, two other familiar faces appeared on Reinhardt's screen.

Winston and Lena smiled widely and said in unison, "Angela! Torbjorn! Jinx! Double jinx! Aagh!"

Everyone else laughed at the hi _jin_ _ks_ of the situation. Reinhardt explained that he had managed to pick up the other two on his way to Gibraltar, to lessen the time it would take for everyone to regroup. Winston thanked him profoundly. It would save so much time.

"Where are you all right now anyway?" he asked.

"Brigitte! Where are we right now!?"

"Luxemburg, Reinhardt," she replied.

"Luxemburg. Which means we will be passing through France, und then Spain, und then we will reach the base! With this baby," he proudly patted the inside wall of his van, "we will get there in about four days flat,"

"Oi! Brigitte! How about a race!?" asked Lena.

"How in the heck is that even fair?" replied Brigitte, off screen.

"Brigitte does have a point!" said Reinhardt, "You two obviously have an advantage, being in a _flying_ machine und all,"

At this point, Genji joined the conversation.

"I currently have no way of grouping up with any of you. So I believe the best course of action for them would be to come get me first. From where they are, it is a two day trip. I'm sure that will give you enough time to get a proper head start, crusader,"

"Very well, Genji. Provide me with your coordinates and we will head to you immediately,"

"Sending them now,"

"Aha! A race it is then! Und the winner gets Overwatch!"

"Or just the satisfaction of getting there before anyone else," said Winston, "By the way, if you do arrive first, I have to tell you that I have provided the base with a large cloaking device and shield barrier, so that Talon cannot find it again. Tell me once you get there, on the off chance you do make it there before us, highly unlikely by my calculations anyway, so that I can lower the cloak and barrier for you,"

"Jawohl! Brigitte! Have this thing at full tilt the whole way!"

"Come on Winston!" exclaimed Torbjorn, "We scientists gotta stick together! I'll sabotage this bucket o' bolts so that you get there first!"

"You touch my van und I'll stuff you in the-!" Winston cut the feed, chuckling at the two friends' crazy antics.

At that moment, Genji's coordinates came through to Winston's computer.

"Ah, perfect. Athena, lock on to these coordinates, cloak us, and get us out of this air space,"

At this, Lena was terribly confused.

"Whuh? Who's Athena?" she asked.

"Oh! That's right, you wouldn't know," replied the scientist, "Athena, introduce yourself please,"

A disembodied voice echoed through the dropship.

"Greetings Agent Oxton, codename: Tracer. I am Athena,"

Lena gave an awkward chuckle, realizing she wasn't going to be talking to a physical entity.

"Um, hiya! Are you an artificial intelligence or something?" she asked.

"You are correct in stating that," Athena replied.

"Wicked. Winston! You created her?"

The ape smiled proudly, "You are correct in stating that also. From chronal accelerators to AI, I make them all! She is my greatest invention yet. But enough about me, let's catch up, how have you been?"

The two sat down on opposite bunks at the far end of the drop ship. Tracer began.

"Well, I'm sure you heard about what happened...at King's Row..."

Winston sullenly replied, "Yes. It is a tragedy that happened. Mondatta. He truly was a great Omnic,"

Lena began to look down in defeat and shame.

"I could've stopped it...from happinin'. I was there. I could've stopped her! But I lead her right to 'im… It's my fault! I should have done more, could have done more!"

There was a long moment of silence between the two. Winston had never seen her so torn apart, never seen her act so guilty. It was just unlike her. She started to speak again.

"I have this amazing power...to go back and forth through time, to correct my own mistakes, to get around my enemies, take 'em by surprise. And what do I do with it? I send myself into wild goose chases, thinking I've got the upper hand, when really I've just played myself into their own hands. I was better than this! I was always better than this… Now look. Because of what I failed to do, lives were lost, and Widowmaker escaped. And the human omnic struggle has just gotten worse with the loss of one of their best peace keepers… I could have done more…"

Slowly she removed her goggles, set them aside, and rubbed her temples, frustrated with herself beyond belief. Another moment of silence between the two, Lena looking down at the floor of the ship, Winston looking intently at Lena. She looked so defeated and hopeless. That wasn't like her at all. He needed her back, more than ever.

"Lena, listen to me," He said firmly.

She looked up at him, eyes full of regret.

"Things aren't as they used to be. We don't inspire people anymore. Our enemies strike fear into the hearts of everyone; man, woman, omnic, and it is what they want! After our fall, our foes have only grown stronger, and they know how to use their strength,"

Lena heard his words, and they made her angry, not at Winston though, but at the fact that he was right. They did know how to use their strength, and they were clearly stronger than them. Winston continued.

"However, that does not mean that what we do now makes them stronger than us, makes them better than us. Every single move we make against them only makes us stronger, even if that move ends in defeat. Because Lena, what you did that day made them realize that they cannot just do as they wish, without a fight. You fought because you knew you were the only one who could stand a chance against her, and because of that, you grew stronger. And you will continue to get stronger the more you fight. And the more we fight, the more we will win. And I promise you, Lena, we will fight, and we will win, as a team, as a unit, as a family. Because that is one thing that our enemies do _not_ have,"

Lena looked up at her companion with a new found spirit. Winston could see in her eyes what he needed to see: inspiration, determination, and most of all, hope. She took in his words, reflecting on all of it, and finally stood up, smiling at him with that all too familiar smile.

"Thanks big guy. I needed that. Wasn't feeling like myself for a moment,"

He smiled back at her, and the two embraced, Winston not hugging too hard, afraid he'd break her frail body, or the chronal accelerator, or both.

Lena backed off and smiled brightly, grateful to have a friend like Winston, knowing full well that he was a 5' 11", 180 pound, super intelligent, talking gorilla. But he'd always be more than that in the eyes of all Overwatch agents. He would be the one to reunify them all, to bring back what was thought lost. He would be the reason the world would have hope again. She then took a big sigh.

"Alright, so Genji is next?" she asked.

Winston knuckle walked over to the cockpit, Lena following through her blinking ability.

"Yes, and hopefully we get there soon. I wouldn't want to lose a race against time to a van after all,"

The two of them laughed and sat in the pilot and co pilot seats, staring off into the distant sky. This was a small moment of peace and quiet, and although they knew it was not meant to last, they tried to enjoy it. It was their job to make sure that the world got the same peace and quiet one day. That's when Lena remembered someone.

"You know who would love this?" she softly asked.

Winston had an idea who, but gave an inquisitive, "hm?"

She looked back at him with gentle eyes, almost in pain, "Jack..."

He knew it. Memories of the commander began to fill his head, as well as Lena's.

"Yes, you are right. He would very much enjoy this, bringing back Overwatch. He'd be so happy,"

Lena gave a soft sigh, bringing her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, remembering what life was like back then. Winston looked her over, studying her body language, her facial expressions, the way she was breathing.

"You miss him, don't you?" he asked.

"Well of course I miss him. We all do," she replied, knowing full well what he meant, but not addressing it.

"I mean, more than the rest of us. I know you were… more fond of him than others," probed the scientist.

This was getting into territory Lena didn't want to delve into right now. She just wanted to bring up a moment to remember Jack Morrison, not have a psycho analysis of her misplaced feelings.

"Can we just, _not_ talk about that, please? You put me through one pep talk already, I don't want another right now, mkay?" She politely asked.

Winston nodded and smiled gently, "Sorry,"

Another moment of awkward silence and staring out the window. It was two days to Nepal, two days back. Hopefully the ride wouldn't be filled with any more awkward silent moments. All they wanted to do was enjoy the peace while it lasted.

xxxx

Genji Shimada paced back and forth along the balcony of the Shambali Temple, overlooking the vast mountain range which the temple resided in. He was unsure of how his master would take the news, him leaving Nepal for a war the Shambali did not believe in. But if Overwatch was being reborn, he would answer the call of his friends. To do otherwise would bring great dishonor to his name. He owed his life to Overwatch; Dr. Ziegler saved his life, many times in fact, but it was the first time that mattered the most. The cyber ninja ceased his pacing and stared off into the distance, the chrome pieces of his armor shining almost proudly in the sunlight. He must have confidence that his master would understand, that he would, in fact, be proud that he was leaving for a righteous cause. Or perhaps Zenyatta would still be mad at him for stealing his boat so that he could see his brother, and in the process, crashed that boat on the trip back. But maybe he has forgiven him. Genji honestly could not tell what was processing in that mechanical mind half the time, but he did value his master's approval and friendship very much.

"Hello my student," said the kind and gentle voice of Takhartha Zenyatta from behind.

Genji didn't know how his master was always able to sneak up on him, though the fact that the omnic monk never made a foot step might have been a good place to start. He bowed humbly to the enlightened teacher.

"Master, thank you for taking the time to talk with me," he said.

"It is always a privilege to talk with one of my finest students, and even more of an honor to be asked by him to talk. Tell me, what is on your mind?" inquired Zenyatta, floating ever so gracefully next to his pupil, looking over the mountains.

Genji began his confession.

"Master, I am not sure if you are aware, but-"

"Your friends are on their way to receive you, to take you to battle those who would obstruct our peace on this world," Zenyatta finished.

Once again, Genji was dumbfounded by how his master always knew what was going on in his personal life. It almost urked him.

"Wh- How did you-?"

"Through The Iris, my young pupil, I see everything," replied the omnic monk.

 _The master works in mysterious ways_ Genji said to himself. He brushed the explanation aside.

"Then you know that I must answer their call. I cannot stay here, master,"

"Of course you cannot," replied the teacher.

"Wait, what?"

The monk explained his response.

"Genji, I have taught you many things, and if there is one lesson that you still have failed to grasp, it is that the outcome is not preordained. You were never destined to stay here. I had only brought you here because I wanted to guide you onto a path that would put you at peace with yourself. But we do not let the actions of others determine who we are meant to be. I may have put you on the path, but there are endless forks in the road of life, and it is our choices that decide which path we chose from then on. So do not think that you need my approval to let you go. Always remember, Genji, if we are to be more than who we are, we must learn to accept and move on from the past. Your future resides with your decisions, and you alone,"

Genji took in these words, just as he had done many times before, embracing them, understanding them. He then nodded and bowed.

"Arigato sensei. However, it was not my intention to go by myself,"

At this, Zenyatta tilted his head in surprise.

"I had not foreseen this. Explain, my student,"

Genji explained,

"Master, please come with me. Be a part of Overwatch,"

Zenyatta sighed, in what almost seemed like disappointment, "Genji…"

His pupil continued,

"Master, I know you have done so much to regain the trust and respect of your brothers and sisters, but please, I beg of you, consider it. You have taught me many things, and I feel that your teachings would greatly benefit the actions of Overwatch. Help us bring peace to the world which you cherish so much, the world that we all cherish. I cannot help but feel that you are needed with us. You said it yourself, to be more than who you are, you have to move on from the past. Master, please, you can be so much more than a teacher. You could be a hero, and even more,"

Even though Genji no longer possessed skin with nerves, he swore he could feel a cold chill running down his spine, feeling every second pass as his master just stared at him with those blank slits for eyes. He hovered there, not saying a word for half a minute, but it felt like eternity. Then he spoke.

"Genji, I am a shambali. I do not condone the use of violence of my own making anymore. I have already betrayed the word of my brothers and sisters once. I do not wish to provoke them again. What you do is not what I do,"

"I am not saying you will be a part of the war. What I am saying is that you will be a beacon of hope, just as Mondatta was. You will never have to fight again I swear,"

The mentioning of his fallen brother put memories in his mind. Memories that he thought he had moved on from long ago. There was more silence between them, as if they were frozen like the statues leading up to the entrance of the temple. Finally, Genji spoke once more.

"Think about it, please. When we first met, I know you would have joined me without hesitation,"

The omnic monk looked up at his student.

"I will… consider the possibility, and discuss it with the others. Then I will return with my answer,"

He knew Zenyatta could not see it, but Genji smiled behind is mask, and bowed once more.

"Arigato, master,"

With that, they parted ways, Genji walking down the southern end of the hallway, Zenyatta floating down the northern end. Wrapped up in his thoughts, Genji almost didn't realize the other omnic monk coming towards him.

"Greetings Genji," said the female omnic.

Realizing who was in front of him, he replied, "Omyatta, hello there,"

The omnic named Omyatta was built similarly to Zenyatta, though she was adorned in more whiter plating with sky blue accents, with her eye slits a centimeter wider than his, giving a more innocent look. Her body and mid section were comprised of overlapping chrome plates, forming a more female-esque look, which she wore a loose silver and blue toga over. Since she was one of Zenyatta's newest pupils, she still walked upon the earth with two legs.

"I overheard your conversation with master Zenyatta. So the rumors are true; you are leaving us?"

Genji nodded slightly, "Hai, I must. But I will return. This place has become like another home to me. But if I do not leave, this peaceful place may be at risk,"

"Well then we must prepare festivities, to honor your leaving!" she suddenly said.

Genji waved it off though.

"Please, Omyatta, that will not be necessary. I am far too humble now to accept such a gift. Please,"

Omyatta looked sullen for a being who could not articulate any facial expressions. Genji could not quite understand why. He had never encountered an omnic like her before. She seemed too concerned about even the littlest things. But this was not important right now. What mattered was his master's decision, and his own preparation for his departure.

"Peace be upon you Omyatta," He calmly said.

Regaining her composure, she replied, "Peace be upon you as well Genji,"

And with that, he strode past her, making his way to his house in the village square.

xxxx

He was almost finished packing everything he needed into one duffel bag. His swords, his books, even his tooth brush. Genji pondered over what he should bring next, then spied the picture frame on a small coffee table in the corner. He picked it up. A photo of him and Hanzo, as young adults. First he looked at his own face, his fine handsome features, his spiked green dye hair, his fantastic sense of fashion. Then he looked at his brother beside him, always so serious, but also so loving. He missed him, so very much. He pressed his fingers upon the glass of the frame, letting the memories overflow. Then he sighed, _We must accept and let go of the past._ He set the picture down, he would not bring it with him. He had waited weeks for his brother to give him an answer, of what side he should choose in this changing world. He was losing hope that he would ever see Hanzo again. Perhaps he was a fool to think there was still hope for him. It was then he felt a presence.

"Master," he said.

Zenyatta hovered in the doorway, not making a sound.

"You have become better at detecting me, my student," He said.

"Well I wouldn't be a ninja if I couldn't even hear a dead silent, hovering omnic monk creeping up on me with no warning now would I?" replied Genji, with a hint of humor.

The monk chuckled at the remark, then got down to business.

"Come with me. Let us talk some more," He hovered out of the doorway and to the balcony overlooking the mountain range.

Genji slid through the window and deftly landed next to his master. There was something about these mountain ranges that just put both of their minds at ease.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Zenyatta commented.

"Hai, it is a true spectacle. I spent many an hour on this balcony, looking out in the distance, pondering your lessons, asking myself who I am. And thanks to you, I now know,"

Zenyatta did not say anything to this, instead he hovered slightly ahead of his pupil, then turned so that his side faced him.

"I have discussed our conversation with my brothers and sisters, and my students as well," he finally said.

Genji's heart skipped a beat, eager to hear what his decision was.

"And?"

A pause.

"They said that, as long as I do not engage in any violent behavior, I will not be shunned,"

Another pause, longer this time.

"And?" Genji said, rotating his hand in a 'continue' motion.

Then Zenyatta did something that Genji never thought he would do. He uncoiled his legs, straightened them, and stood upon the floorboards.

"Master?"

The omnic monk stood erect and proud, mechanical chest put out, arms at his side.

"I will follow you Genji. I will put this behind me, and go with you on your journey with Overwatch. You were right. This time, the student has become the teacher. You reminded me of my lesson, when I myself had forsaken it. Thank you,"

With that, he bowed the way Genji would, hands at his side, facing his former student. Genji could not believe what he was seeing, but once he realized what was happening, he graciously returned the bow. The wind around them blew softly, sending small bits of snow to swirl around them. It seemed everything was at perfect balance at that very moment. They straightened themselves, and looked each other in the eye.

"Master, thank you. I promise you, you will not regret this decision. I know you will make a difference in this struggle, I can feel it,"

"I'm sure I will not," replied the Omnic.

Genji knew Zenyatta had no way of depicting it, but if he could, Genji would see a wide smile sprawled across that metal face plate of his. It was then he realized how tall Zenyatta was. He was almost as tall as him. It was strange, seeing him stand up. But he was sure it wouldn't last. It was then a nagging question entered Genji's mind.

"Master, about what you said, being able to see everything through the Iris. Is that...true?"

Zenyatta took a moment to put together his answer. Then looked out to the mountains once again.

"I see… what I see. I see possibilities, inevitabilities. I see what the Iris lets me see. Most times I see answers, other times I see only questions. But, I know one thing for certain," He turned to face the cyber ninja, "That we are all one with in the Iris, and that, in time, humans and omnics will be at peace, just as my brother, Mondatta, wanted,"

"But do you see what awaits the future of the world? Do you see peace for us? For everyone? Will Overwatch succeed?"

Zenyatta pressed his metallic hands together, and hummed softly, the golden orbs around him spinning and floating clockwise. Genji patiently waited, leaning against the wall of his house. The omnic responded.

"I cannot tell you the outcome of Overwatch's accomplishments Genji. But I can tell you this: no matter how hard we try, there will always be conflict in this world, in any world. It is like the two sides of a yin and yang. Harmony and Discord. One cannot exist without the other,"

Genji looked down, almost defeated, hearing that come from his teacher. But then he lifted his head, and looked at him in the optic slits.

"Then it is up to us to keep that balance, and fight in the name of Harmony. It is up to us to ensure that, somewhere in the world, there is peace, even if the whole world cannot feel it, we will make sure that everyone can hope for it!"

Zenyatta chuckled, "And that is why you are my best student," He assumed his floating position once again.

"Come, there are festivities to be held," he said, floating away.

Genji sighed, following him, "Master, I do not require a party,"

"Of course you don't," replied Zenyatta, "It is for me,"

Genji stopped, "Oh..." then he continued to follow his master.

That was when Zenyatta stopped moving, reaching into his pants pocket.

"Ah, I almost forgot something," he said, pulling out a letter with a feather pinned to it.

He handed it to Genji, who took it hesitantly.

"What is it?" he asked, holding it in both his hands.

"Isn't it obvious? It is a letter," replied Zenyatta, almost sarcastically.

Genji rolled his eyes behind his visor and opened the letter. Then he gasped. It was from Hanzo.

xxxxx

OKAY! so I did another mess up! Sorry! aaagh why does Blizzard keep these things hidden so well! So I don't know if any of you noticed, but In RECALL, Genji's position was supposedly in like Eastern North America or something, so crap! But that doesn't apply to this story. Let's just say it was a glitch in Winston's tracking system :D Anyway. sorry for another long one. Next one should include the contents of the letter, then Probably Some McCree, then S76 and Alejandra, but we will see. Don't forget to leave a comment please! Thank you for reading! And btw, Omyatta is like a throwaway OC, buuut who knows, maybe she'll come back. And before anyone whines, yes, I'm not making a Tracer x Widowmaker thing. The two hate each other with a passion in this story okay? okay. please don't hate me.


	3. Chapter 3

I just want to say thank you all for your support! You guys are the ones that keep me writing this fic! I haven't been this happy to write in a long time, I actually haven't been this happy in a long time lol. That says a lot about my life : ^D….. lol jk. Anyway. We're gonna explore more characters, and get back to some other ones from the first chapter. Hope you all enjoy this one! I'm not in it for the glory.

XXXX

The airport was hot and humid, typical of a summer afternoon in Texas. The sky had barely any clouds, allowing the full heat of the sun to beat the black pavement like a dead horse. Jesse McCree, however, was no stranger to heat. He lived in the blistering deserts of New Mexico for most of his life. In fact, he welcomed it a little bit, feeling right at home. But what he welcomed more was the fact that the cargo hold for the plane he was eyeballing was left open and unattended. Perfect.

"This life's never uneventful," he muttered to himself.

He checked and double checked to make sure the coast was clear, then gunned it like a wild hare in a shooting gallery. He reached the side of the stairs leading to the door of the cargo hold, jumped, gripped the railing with his metal arm, hauled himself up, and snuck inside. No one was the wiser. He was about to shut the door, but noticed the airport cargo handlers making their way to his position, obviously oblivious to his presence. He ducked back inside, hiding in the shadows.

"I'm just saying Frank, I think I might really have a chance with her,"

"Yeah right. After I saw the way you handle yourself in a bar, you have a better chance of finding that Jesse McCree guy the news keeps complaining about,"

He could hear their footsteps slowly inching their way up the stairs, their voices getting louder. Then they stopped, right outside the door. The one closest was holding some large luggage.

"With the bounty on his head, I'd be surprised if he wasn't caught by now. The lengths Congress will go to just to get to one guy. But hell, if that guy was in twenty feet of me, I'd take this bag, and throw it right at him!"

On cue, the bag flew through the door, and knocked McCree back, sending him into a pile of suitcases and golf bags. He bit his tongue to keep from making any noise.

"Knocking him flat on his cowboy ass,"

"Haha! I'd love to see that. Man, if only the world was smaller,"

And the door shut, complete darkness surrounding Jesse. He shoved the bag out of his way, and sighed a breath of relief.

"Heh, if they only knew," He said to himself.

He propped himself up on some luggage, making a makeshift couch. Making sure he was as comfortable as could be, considering his situation, he held his cybernetic arm up.

"Time to update the gang,"

A panel opened up on his forearm, with a little keyboard and pop up holo screen. After pressing a series of buttons, the holo screen lit up, with Winston's, Reinhardt's, and Genji's cams showing.

"I've currently acquired myself a dandy little airplane for my mode of transportation to our base. It ain't first class, but it sure as hell beats holdin' on to the side of a wing,"

"Excellent," replied Winston, "Update us further if Talon shows up again, like last time,"

"I just hope that this plane ain't carryin' any special cargo that Talon might wanna get their grubby little...talons on,"

At this point, Lena interrupted.

"Oi! Jesse! If you see anything like a jacket like this one, or maybe some wicked looking shades, get 'em for me please! I feel like I need a wardrobe update," She said, inspecting her outfit.

McCree gave a soft chuckle, "I'll do my best little lady. Though you're still lookin' fine to me,"

"Oh ho ho Jesse, you're bad," Lena replied, giving a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Everyone laughed at that. Jesse continued.

"Alright people, I think we're takin' off soon. I'll let y'all know when I reach Spain. And by then, I'll reach Gibraltar before you can say-"

"IT'S HIGH NOON," exclaimed everyone, except McCree.

He glared at them, cigar hanging out the side of his mouth.

"Why do you have to ruin that for me," he said with a joking smirk.

"Well, you say it all the time, Jesse dear," replied Angela, "even when it isn't high noon,"

The cigar chewing agent rolled his eyes, smiled and shook his head.

"I'll see you all on the flip side, Jesse out,"

He cut the feed and leaned back in his 'chair' of luggage. Tilting his hat so that it covered his eyes, he slowly drifted to sleep, remembering the past, before it all went to hell, before Reyes' betrayal.

XXXX

The seaplane was holding up very well, despite having a bit of rust here and there, it was still in very good condition, and flying at maximum capacity. Morrison hadn't flown very much during his time in Overwatch, preferring ground tactics to dogfighting in the air, but he knew the basics. Alejandra was in the copilot's seat, chin in her right hand, looking out the window, obviously bored. She needed conversation; they had been flying for hours. It was driving her crazy. She looked over to Jack.

"It sure was nice of that man to give us this plane for only a hundred US dollars. It seems like such a small amount," she said.

Morrison gave a small laugh.

"When I get the chance, I'm going to teach you all about economics and the value of the dollar compared to other currencies, kid. You'd be surprised how much people could get with only fifty dollars in Mexico. I'm surprised you were never taught that,"

Alejandra gave an inquisitive look, "I guess I have a lot to learn… I've never been outside of Dorado. Oh!" she reached into the back, where Jack's bag sat, slumped over.

He took a quick glance back at her, then went back to flying.

"What you lookin' for back there kid?"

She sat back straight in her chair, holding the burrito.

"During all the chaos, you never got to eat!" She said.

He gave a soft smile underneath his mask. How thoughtful of her.

"Thank you Ali. Let me see. Is there an auto pilot...Ah. Here it is," He pushed the button for auto pilot, and it glowed a deep blue.

Morrison released the controls and kindly accepted the food that was made for him.

"I hope it's still warm," remarked Alejandra, "I wrapped it up as best as I could. Honestly I'm surprised it's still in one piece,"

Jack was thinking the same thing, but decided to not verbalize it, and just eat. He really was starving now, especially after seeing the food in his hands. He went to take a bite, but realized his mask was still on his face.

"Oh! Let me get that for you," said Alejandra.

She reached up and unclasped the mask from him, pulling it away slowly. He could feel the stuffy air of the plane on his face. He smiled down at her.

"Thanks,"

He unwrapped the burrito and glanced at it. It seemed like a very firm, well filled wrap, and was, surprisingly, still warm in his hands. He bit into it. His eyes widened in shock. Slowly he chewed, savoring every taste that landed on his tongue. If this wasn't the best thing he had eaten in years, he didn't know what was. Perfection was put into this simple, yet complex dish of exquisite Mexican cuisine. Alejandra noticed his expression.

"Um...is it okay?" she asked.

Jack finished chewing his bite, and swallowed. He laughed softly.

"You know, your mom sure did teach you how to cook," smiling at her, he said, "Thank you Alejandra. This is great,"

Alejandra beamed with delight, probably one of the widest smiles Jack had ever seen on a kid. He continued eating until there was nothing left but the wrapper. Alejandra then brought over the bread, which was also surprisingly warm, and they split it between them as the plane guided itself through the air. But the silence was starting to urk her again. She thought about what she wanted to talk about. Then another question came to mind.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he replied, "What's on your mind?" he asked as he ate a piece of bread.

"Why did you disappear?" she asked.

76 raised an eyebrow, and sidelooked over to her, not fully facing her. She continued.

"I mean, you survived the destruction of the Swiss base. But you didn't reveal yourself at all. Why?"

It took a moment for Morrison to piece together his answer. He took a deep breath, let it out, and spoke.

"Because, if I did, I wouldn't be able to do the things I've been doing. I wouldn't have been able to deal with Los Muertos, wouldn't be able to find out who else was behind the fall of Overwatch. I know it couldn't have just been Reyes and Blackwatch. There had to have been outsider help. I just know it! And if I had shown myself, they would have just locked me up. Can't do much justice behind bars. But it will do me justice to put _those_ scumbags behind bars, or in the ground. That's why I haven't shown myself to them. That's why I _can't_ show myself to them. It would just do more harm than good,"

Alejandra nodded, understanding his reasons. It made sense.

"But you'll show who you are to your team when you join them, right?" she asked.

This time, the reply came without hesitation.

"Honestly kid, I don't know. I'm not the same Jack Morrison they knew years ago. I'm not a leader,"

"But you would give them so much hope. Think of how overjoyed they would be to find out that their long lost commander is still alive, and with them! Even if you didn't lead them, you would still inspire them. You may say you're just a soldier, but to them, you were always so much more,"

Morrison thought on this, and he had to admit, she was right. That could boost their morale, either that, or confuse the hell out of them. He hoped it would be the former. He looked over to his young companion, almost dumbfounded.

"How old are you kid?"

At this, Alejandra looked a little shy.

"I'm turning 13 tomorrow..." she smiled innocently.

"Hah." Jack began, "Then we'll have to do a little celebration when we get to Gibraltar. But I have to say, you don't hear kids your age talking to old guys like me like that,"

She smirked proudly.

"I'm not a baby, commander"

He laughed softly, "No you aren't,"

It was then that Jack began to have questions of his own. He just realized that he hadn't seen her father anywhere, and didn't even bother to ask her about him before. Guess now was the time for questions.

"Hey, I've been wondering, where is your father anyway?"

At this, Alejandra furrowed her brow, and averted her eyes. This question clearly hit a nerve. With some hesitation, she spoke.

"I...never knew him. Mama only told me stories of him, but didn't even tell me his name. She said that he worked for Overwatch years ago, before I was born, and that he sent Mama to Dorado so that his enemies wouldn't be able to hurt us. We were kept a secret,"

This greatly surprised Morrison. Alejandra's father worked for Overwatch?

"Do you know what happened to him?" he asked.

She looked down in melancholy.

"Mama said that he died in the Swiss base accident. But that he died a hero, at least, that's what she told me. Like I said, I don't know much about my Papa at all,"

The Swiss base attack was the worst day of Jack's life. Betrayed by one of his closest friends. He brushed the memory off. What he was more focused on was finding out who this mystery father was. If her father was a part of Overwatch, he was interested to who he was.

"She didn't even mention a name to you? Maybe in a prayer or something?" he probed.

"Hmm…" she held her chin in her index finger and thumb, trying to remember something.

"Well, there was this one time, I overheard her talking to her friends in the kitchen. She mentioned someone named… Gabriel…"

Both their eyes widened, looking at each other in a form of unified realization. But it couldn't be true. Could it?

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Alejandra asked.

Morrison slowly responded, "Garbiel Reyes…-" But before anyone could say anything else, red lights flashed and an alarmed blared inside the seaplane.

Alejandra gave a short scream.

"What's happening?! Is something wrong?!"

Morrison noticed a certain icon flashing over and over on the dashboard.

"Agh, don't worry kid. The fuel rod needs to be replaced. This won't take long. We just need to land for a little bit. Good thing that guy showed us where all the spares were,"

76 disengaged the autopilot, and descended, smoothly landing the seaplane on the ocean. He opened the door, stopped, then turned to Alejandra.

"Stay. Here," he said, pointing at her accusingly.

Alejandra mockingly stuck her tongue out at the old soldier. Morrison just rolled his eyes and smiled, getting out of the plane, standing on the floats of the aircraft. Alejandra, being the rebellious soul that she was, opened the door, and turned to face the vast ocean before her. She hung her legs out of the plane, and happily swung them forwards and back, feeling the cool of the ocean. Meanwhile, 76 had gotten to the side of the plane, opening the panel where the fuel rod was. He pulled out the spent cylinder, examining it. It was smoking, looking worn and overused.

"That's out of commission alright," he commented to himself.

He stuffed the fuel rod in his back pocket, and replaced it with a fresh one. Making sure it was firmly secured, Jack shut the hatch and made his way back to the cockpit. In the meantime, Alejandra continued to sway her legs back and forth. She didn't even notice her shoe was slipping off until it was too late. On her final swing, her shoe flew off into the water, creating a satisfying plop.

"My shoe!"

She balanced herself on the float of the plane, looking into the ocean. The shoe resurfaced just outside of her reach. It was then she noticed a dark silhouette in the water. Alejandra squinted, trying to make out the shape. What ever it was, it was coming fast. Her eyes widened with realization of what she was looking at. At once, a grown shark broke the surface of the water, completely devouring the helpless shoe. A great force of water struck Alejandra, causing her to lose balance, and tumble into the ocean. She managed to get of a short scream before completely submerging. Enough for Morrison to hear.

"Alejandra?" He said, looking through the door, to find no one there, "Alejandra!"

Under the water, Alejandra couldn't see anything. The salt water stung her eyes. She furiously kicked and swam up to the surface. Her head broke free of the ocean water, allowing her to take a deep breath. She coughed and spun around, looking for the plane. She spied it, and Jack on it as well. The ocean current was stronger than she realized. She was a good 15 feet away.

"Jack!"

"Hang on kid! I'm on my way!" he said, grabbing his mask and diving into the water, swimming as fast as he could.

They both swam to each other, and, thankfully, they reached one another before anything happened. That's when Alejandra spotted the shark's fin behind them. She pointed and screamed, "Look out!"

Morrison held onto her and swam as fast as he could to the plane. His enhanced strength got them back faster than the shark, and he propped her up on the float of the plane, and got on as well. But the shark was relentless. It clearly hadn't eaten for days, because it was not giving up on it's current prey. The beast breached the surface, mouth ajar, it's rows of teeth glistening in the sunlight, launching itself at Morrison. But the soldier side stepped, and wrapped one arm around the neck of the shark as it passed him. The fish wriggled and squirmed furiously under his arm, trying to break free. From his close up, the two could see it was a tiger shark, famous for eating what ever it could find. With his free arm, Jack hammered his fist into the nose and head of the shark.

"These! Aren't! Your! Waters! Anymore!"

He then tossed the animal back into the ocean, and watched it swim away, clearly not interested in lunch anymore. The two of them took quick breaths as they got themselves together, Alejandra now taking her seat inside the plane. Morrison slowly turned to face her, growling in frustration. She looked up at him with wide scared eyes, which eventually broke into a smile, then a giggle, then full on laughter. The same began to happen with Jack, and together, they were laughing. The whole situation seemed ridiculous.

"You- hahaha- you punched a shark! Hahaha!"

"Heheh, I've fought crazier things kid. Hehe," replied Morrison. Then his laughter stopped, "I told you to stay in the damn plane!" he scolded.

Alejandra wiped some water out of her eye, smiling and giggling.

"Hehe. Sorry commander. Do I get a court martial?" she joked.

Morrison rolled his eyes under his face plate, smiling on the inside as he made his way to the pilot's seat.

"No, you're grounded after your birthday," he said in the same joking tone, "But for the love of God, buckle your damn seat belt,"

Taking off his mask, Morrison started the plane up again and took off, reengaging the autopilot.

"We've got about 10 more hours before we reach Spain. When we get there, you're taking a shower," He said.

Alejandra saluted, "Sí señor!"

Morrison shook his head at the girl's humor, smiling. But then his focus went back to their previous conversation. Could this kid be the daughter of Gabriel Reyes? Did he have a secret family he never mentioned? More questions to a web of mysteries. But first things first: they needed to rebuild Overwatch.

XXXX

The Swedish dwarf bit off more than he could chew, and now he was shoved into the top cabinet of a cramped van owned by a 6 and a half foot senile German veteran.

"I told you, dummkopf!" began Reinhardt, "You mess with anything in here, and I'll stuff you in the cupboard!"

"I love you too, Reinhardt," said Torbjorn sarcastically.

"Ha ha, sure you do. Now relax and enjoy the rest of the ride," the German said, shutting the cupboard door.

The muffled sound of Torbjorn could still be heard, however.

"Could you leave it open a smidgen? I can hardly breathe in this tin can anyhow!"

At that, Angela Zieglar kindly responded to his request, and opened it just enough for his head.

"Ah, thank you doctor. At least _someone_ here has some manners,"

Wilhelm gave a delightful chuckle at his friend's remark, not really caring. He then poked his head through to the front of the van, where Brigitte was calmly relaxing.

"Brigitte! What is our status?" asked Reinhardt.

Brigitte replied happily, "We left Luxemburg about an hour ago, and have just entered Spain. If we don't hit any stops, we should be able to get to Gibraltar before nightfall,"

The jolly veteran stood up, feeling victorious.

"Aha! I knew we would get the upper hand! Glory awaits us my comrades!"

Angela chimed in at this point.

"Reinhardt, why so competitive all of a sudden?" She asked with a smile.

The iron crusader spun around and faced her.

"Angela! Where is your sense of sportsmanship? I understand you aren't very competitive, but think of the glory! We're about to win a race against a very complex piece of machinery such as a drop ship, with a van! Oh how crushed their spirits will be when they see us there first! Always remember; honor und glory is all that matters to a soldier,"

"But what about the safety and protection of the civilians?" argued Angela.

"Well that is included with the honor und glory of course! It is with great honor that we protect those who need our help, und it is glorious to see those very same people safe und sound!"

"Ah, I see," replied Angela.

Reinhardt continued, "Just you wait and see. Without honor und glory, there is only-"

"Uh oh!" said Brigitte.

Reinhardt looked through the windshield.

"Uh oh? What is uh oh?" he asked.

The van came to a slow halt, and all around them they could hear angry shouts.

"A riot," She said.

There was a massive mob of people, all carrying anti omnic signs and posters, all screaming "NO OMNICS! NO OMNICS!" in unison. In the center was a group of police, holding back the angry citizens, and in the center of them were omnic civilians. The police were doing what they could to keep the mob at bay. Reinhardt scowled at the sight. He didn't fight for over 20 years for this to happen.

"I'll be right back," he said, making his way to the back of the van.

Torbjorn was struggling to climb out of the cupboard he was stuffed in.

"What? What is going on? Agh!" He slipped out and fell onto the floor, "Oohh…"

Reinhardt opened the back of the van and stepped out, and marched over to the angry mob.

"Oh no. Here he goes again!" exclaimed Brigitte, unbuckling and getting out of the van.

Angela, Torbjorn, and Brigitte followed him slowly. Reinhardt made his way to the center of the mob, towering over every citizen there. One rioter next to him was pumping his sign up in the air. They all were screaming "NO OMNICS!". The German veteran could see the omnics hiding behind the police, obviously fearing for their lives. Reinhardt had enough. He grabbed the sign of the rioter beside him, and ripped it out of his hand. Then he snapped it in two, causing a great cracking sound to echo through the street. Everyone had silenced themselves, looking towards the stranger. All eyes were on him now. Some people said his name, "Is that Reinhardt Wilhelm?", "I think it is,". "What is Reinhardt doing here?" His three companions remained by the van, eyes full of worry. Reinhardt had a moment to look over everyone as they stared at him, their eyes full of confusion. The street was dead silent. Then he began.

"Did I fight for this? Did I dedicate over 20 years of my sweat and blood… for this? Did I lose comrades, friends… family, for this? Nein. I did not. I fought to protect, I fought to make sure that THIS… would _never_ happen again. Why? Why do you do this? Do you feel proud of yourselves?! Does this make you feel better?! Look at them! What have they done to deserves this?"

Everyone was silent; the mob, the police, the omnics in the center. No one spoke, no one moved, except for Reinhardt.

"Nothing! They have done nothing. How can you all sleep at night? They didn't ask to be a part of this world! We brought them into it. Us! And they are just trying to exist along side us. What makes them different from us, besides their appearance? This is no different than harassing gays, or transgenders. This is no different from racism! Shame on you. Shame on all of you! I fought, not so that others could continue fighting, but to make sure that no one fights ever again! I fought so that others could enjoy peace. And yet here you all are, ruining the peace that me and my friends fought to protect. There is no honor in this!" He made his way through the crowd, towards the center, where the police were protecting the omnic citizens.

They were all either kneeling or hunched over, terrified. Some were even dented from heavy blows from the mob. Reinhardt approached one that was on the ground. It looked up at him, a large dent in the side of its head. Reinhardt passionately smiled down at the omnic, and held out his hand to it. The omnic reached out and took it, and stood up.

"Instead of harming them, hurting them, harassing them and rejecting them, accept them. All they want is to be at peace. Is that not what you want? Why bother hurting a complete stranger, when you could make a new friend?! This violence, it does nothing! If you want to truly protect yourselves, if you want to protect your country, and your world… start by protecting them,"

No one else moved, only watched, except one person. The rioter who got his sign broken by Reinhardt stepped from the mob, and briskly walked towards an omnic kneeling on the ground. The omnic did not see him until he was two feet away from him. It pulled back in fear, covering its face plate. But the man did not strike the machine. He held out his hand to it. The omnic noticed, slowly removing his arms from his face. Hesitantly, he grabbed the hand of the man before him, who then pulled him up. The two faced each other for a good minute. Then the human gave an apologetic smile, and placed his hand on the cold metallic shoulder of the ominc. It gave the same gesture in return, and nodded. Reinhardt smiled at them, overjoyed by what he saw. One by one, more people from the mob went over to help up other omnic citizens. Once everyone was up, they all cheered, people tossing their signs and posters aside. Reinhardt laughed triumphantly, proud of his accomplishment, and made his way back to the others, who were all clapping. Torbjorn jumped, pumping his mechanical claw in the air.

"Now that's the Reinhardt I know!" he yelled.

Everyone, including the omnics, were now screaming, "REINHARDT! REINHARDT! REINHARDT! REINHARDT!" as he made his way back to his friends.

They all gave him a congratulatory pat on the back, and they entered the van.

"Great job Reinhardt. That was a true display of honor and glory," said Angela.

The knight sat down in the van, stretched, and relaxed.

"To see justice done is it's own reward. Come now, the path is clear. Let us get to Gibraltar!"

"You got it boss," said Brigitte, and she started the van.

Torbjorn walked up to his tallest friend and shyly asked,

"Um, is it alright if I sit here?"

Reinhardt smiled and laughed, "Of course!"

Torbjorn happily took a seat and relaxed, relieved he would not have to stay in the cupboard for the rest of the trip. Reinhardt sighed with delight, pleased with the results.

"Honor, und Glory,"

XXXX

Genji Shimada was perched on the roof of his house, holding onto the letter he had received from his brother. He had read it over a dozen times, but he had to read it once more. He could not believe his eyes.

"Dear Genji,

It has been weeks since our last meeting. Let me explain my absence. I have just regained control of the Shimada clan, though it required many broken bones and bloody knuckles. But they all now answer to me, and me alone. It took time, obviously, to regain our family title. So if you wish, you now have a haven back home, at Shimada Castle. But I digress. I write this to you, brother, to tell you of my decision. I accept your proposal. You were right. Honor resides in one's actions, and I have failed to act. I dishonored you in death, so I will honor you in life. I must redeem myself Genji, and that means taking the side that you are on. I want nothing more than for you to accept me again, as your blood. When you are ready, come to Shimada Castle, so that I may join you, in what ever endeavors you face. I look forward to seeing you again.

Your one and only brother,

Hanzo"

Genji put down the letter, and stared off at the mountain range. Had his brother truly chosen a side? There was only one way to find out. He then heard his master's voice from below.

"Genji, their ship has arrived," Zenyatta reported.

Genji stood from his roof, and swiftly swung down through the window, grabbing his bag, and came out the door to face his master.

"Let us go," he said, and they made their way to the drop ship.

XXXX

Both Lena and Winston stood outside the drop ship, ready to great their friend. Genji could see them both waving enthusiastically as he entered their field of vision, his master floating gracefully beside him. Once close enough, they exchanged greetings. Winston was first.

"Genji, it has been a while," Said the ape, extending his hand.

Genji shook it firmly, "Indeed it has been, Winston. I am glad you made the call,"

Winston smiled, and then addressed the omnic next to his ally, "Hello there,"

Genji said, "Allow me to introduce you. Winston, Lena, this is my master, Takhartha Zenyatta. Master, this is Winston. He is a scientist. And this is Lena. She's fast,"

"Peace be upon the both of you," said the Shambali monk.

"Wicked!" exclaimed Lena, "It's an honor to meet another member of the Shambali. I met Mondatta once, he was such an inspiration to me!"

"I am glad that my brother's words have touched your heart Lena. We all miss him very much," replied Zenyatta.

"Yes… I'm very sorry for your loss," she replied.

"He is now one with the Iris. I am at peace, knowing that he will always be watching over us,"

At that, Lena smiled with a new found reassurance. She then addressed Genji.

"Genji! It's been too long," She embraced the cyber ninja tightly.

He returned the hug with equal enthusiasm.

"Yes it has Lena, you look… just as you did when I last saw you!" he said.

Letting go of him, Lena replied, "And you're looking… shinier hehe..."

There was clearly some kind of awkward ambiance surrounding them. Zenyatta discretely approached Winston and whispered,

"Is there something going on with them?"

Winston replied, "They have an… awkward past,"

"Ah, I see," said Zenyatta.

"… No you don't" said Winston quickly.

The omnic slowly turned his head towards Winston, who averted his eyes from him. After breaking through the strangeness, Lena said,

"Alright, well if there isn't anything else, let's get goin'!"

"Actually," Genji interjected, "I have a couple of announcements,"

Lena and Winston tilted their heads, and listened to him.

"My master would like to join us, in our quest to bring balance to the world,"

The other two Overwatch agents beamed at this.

"But wait," began Tracer, "you're a Shambali. I thought you were against violence,"

"I will not engage in physical violence. I would much prefer to be more of an… ambassador, if you will,"

"Well," said Winston, "The more the merrier. Welcome Zenyatta. I'm sure your contribution will be invaluable,"

Zenyatta nodded and replied, "I hope so as well,"

Genji continued with his announcements.

"Also, I regret to inform you that we will lose the race,"

Lena gave a confused, disappointed look, "Wha', why?"

"Because we must go to Japan, to pick up my brother,"

"What?! You have a brother?" she said.

"Hai, and he wishes to join us. We must answer his call,"

Winston joined in, "Wait, how does he know we are being recalled?"

"He does not. He only wishes to join me on what ever side I am on, which means he will aid Overwatch. I know my brother. We can trust him,"

Winston nodded, "Very well. I just said the more the merrier. Let's go get your brother,"

Lena gave a frustrated grunt, "Ugh, fine. Let's just hurry up. I've been eating nothing but peanut butter and banana's all day. I need something else to eat,"

"Well, you are lucky you are going to Japan. My brother can cook you an excellent bass,"

With that, everyone got on board the dropship. It ascended into the air, and took off, heading straight for Hanamura, Japan.

XXXX

I swear these chapters just keep getting longer and longer : D. Anyway. Hope you all like this one! You guys keep inspiring me to make more every time I read a comment. Don't forget to leave one by the way! And yes, Morrison fought a shark. And no, the past between Tracer and Genji is probably NOT what you think. More to come in the next few days hopefully! Keep givin them comments! Thank you!


	4. UPTDATE1 (Not a chapter)

SMALL UPDATE

Okay. So I understand that there is a little confusion on the last chapter. Let me explain. I know that Overwatch knew of the Shimada clan. But It is possible that not all Overwatch agents were involved with the fall of it. For instance Tracer. She was probably not too involved with it, seeing that it was Genji's mission and not hers. There will definitely be some conflict with the other agents about this in this story. but Tracer just was not aware of the BROTHER that Genji had. It just might not have been information that he wanted to convey with her. Keep in mind that he was not at peace with himself when he was at Overwatch, so there might have been some conflict between him sharing personal information with a colleague such as Lena. Of course, the only one (in this story) who knows most of what happened between the brothers would be Mercy, but that will be touched on in the next chapter. As for Hanzo's situation with the clan, more of it will be revealed as the story continues, and it will actually be a huge element later. But for clarification, so that people aren't thinking I'm not doing my research, I know that Shimada operates out side of Hanamura, and the Shimada clan _IS_ keeping this a secret from their new "leader". They are still loyal to their weapon trading roots, but, for the sake of their own lives, the ones in Hanamura are just doing what Hanzo says, without telling him all their plans. So, in a way, they have already backstabbed him. But that will not come until later. Also, Bastion may or _meinot (see what I did there? :D_ ) be in this story. I am definitely thinking about it, but all I know is that, for this story, not every hero will be present. I may save some for a different story. Just to tell you all who will NOT be in here, this is the list: Lucio, , Pharah, Roadhog, Junkrat, Symmetra, and Zarya. It is simply because, in this current story, they just don't fit right now. It would take too much time to write them in. I'm probably going to save them for a different story ark. But everyone else should be in it. As for Bastion though, we will see. I keep thinking that it would be a good idea, but I will need to think about what his role would be. Only time, and lots of all nighters, will tell. Thank you for the feedback on that! If you guys like these feedback posts let me know and I will continue doing them! I only did this one to let people know that I'm doing my research, and that I am doing as MINIMAL lorebreaking as possible. It just doesn't convey itself well in the story, which I should be more careful of. I promise I will not disappoint! You all keep on supporting me and I will give another chapter within the next few days! Thank you all very much again! Stay tuned!


	5. Chapter 4

So this chapter might be a little late cuz of unnecessary dramas going on : ^). But hopefully writing will take my mind away from it. So this is where the story should get a bit more intense, at least I hope so. I also hope that little update was good for some of you. If you all would prefer to just wait for chapters instead of updates, let me know please! Without further-ado, let's get into this. Oh! Before I forget, you guys should check out this little video I found. I can definitely say I have...Overwatched it :D … kms watch?v=eMUQr0UZiJs&list=LL-wUdAx5F3JABK7hTjWeuYg&index=2

XXXX

Hanzo Shimada sat on his knees in front of the shrine dedicated to Genji. Though he knew his brother was still alive, he still had a habit of returning to this spot and praying for hours at a time. Hanzo still felt immense guilt, for condemning his brother to an existence that was less than human. He could still see the pale flesh of Genji's face when he removed his mask to him, vividly in his mind. Hanzo took deep, soothing breaths, doing what he could to calm himself. He had just regained control of Shimada Castle, but he knew there were those within the clan who did not approve of his taking over, and had left. Perhaps they would come back with an army, to take back what they thought was theirs. But this Castle belonged to Hanzo's family, and he would not let it be tarnished further. His meditation was interrupted by the sound of foot falls.

"My lord!" said Daisuke, one of Hanzo's few followers that actually were loyal, "I apologize for interrupting your peace, but there is an Overwatch vessel approaching the castle!"

Hanzo spun around to face his bodyguard, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Overwatch?" he said. Then the realization kicked in, "Genji!"

XXXX

Outside Shimada Castle, Hanzo's guards had their small arms weapons directed towards the dropship looming overhead, but none of them fired. They only trained their sights on their target, awaiting orders from the head of the clan. He emerged from the castle, and held up his fist, palm facing forward.

"Hold your fire!" he commanded.

It was then that the dropship slowly spun in place, so that the rear of it was facing the castle. The hangar door opened slowly, and there stood the guest that Hanzo was expecting. Genji leaped from the dropship and deftly landed in front of his brother. Hanzo approached him and held up his hand. Genji clasped it firmly in his and nodded.

"I see you got my message, brother," said Hanzo.

"Hai. I am happy about your decision. It was the right one,"

Hanzo replied, "It was the only one, Genji, if I am to redeem myself. But I am glad you are here. Come, we have much to discuss,"

"Yes we do, but first, our ship is running low on fuel. Would you help us replenish it? We do not plan to stay long,"

Hanzo nodded, "Of course. Daisuke! Tell the men to fill this ship up with fuel, please,"

Daisuke nodded and rounded up two other guards, and left to find the proper gas for the ship. During all this, Winston had landed their vessel in the court yard of the castle, and let the others out. Hanzo patted his brother on the back.

"Come, let us dine in your honor. I'm sure that the trip has made you very hungry,"

"I know longer have a functioning stomach, Hanzo. But there are some who would truly love to have something more nourishing to eat," said Genji.

The news saddened Hanzo, knowing that his brother no longer had the capability to eat, but he did not let it faze his current demeanor.

"Then we shall eat in your honor. I will provide your friends with the finest sea bass they have ever tasted,"

It was then that Hanzo realized there would only be one friend of Genji's that would be actually eating sea bass. He saw the strange group that had accompanied his brother: An omnic monk, a Gorilla, and a woman.

"Well...I shall also provide the best salad as well," He said.

The rest of the Overwatch group approached the two brothers, while looking all around them, astounded by the scenery.

"Wicked…" said Lena, as she took in her surroundings, "This place is beautiful. I had always heard stories of Shimada Castle, but never seen it. Oh! Hiya. Are you Hanzo Shimada?"

The archer bowed before Lena, arms at his side.

"Indeed. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss…?"

"Lena Oxton's the name!" She said, grabbing Hanzo's hand and shaking it with a strength Hanzo didn't know any woman could posses.

Trying to kindly pull away, Hanzo smiled.

"It is an honor to meet you Lena sama,"

There was something oddly charming about this young woman, but Hanzo would think up on it later. He had guests to impress, and a brother he needed to talk to.

XXXX

They all gathered in the main dining hall, and even though Zenyatta did not eat, he still hovered slightly lower to the ground, enjoying the company of everyone. Lena was very grateful for the new change in food, constantly complaining that all she had to eat during the trip was bananas and peanut butter. She honestly couldn't tell how Winston was still alive. During their meal, Genji and Winston had explained to Hanzo their situation, with the recall and the regrouping of Overwatch. Hanzo listened intently.

"I see," he said, "And your mission is to stop this new enemy called Talon? You believe they are instigating this next Omnic Crisis?"

"Yes," Replied Winstion, "They have attacked us on numerous occasions. It is only a matter of time before they strike again. Which is why we must leave as soon as the ship is refueled,"

"Well I can assure you that the Shimada Clan will provide what ever support they can to helping you stop them. It is the least I can do for you, since you saved my brother,"

At this, Winston was unsure. He remembered the weapons the Shimada's used to provide to their enemies while Overwatch was in its prime. He still didn't trust anyone who lived in this building.

"How can you be certain?" the scientist asked, "I doubt that your clan would so willingly give up their roots. In fact, I have heard rumors that Shimada still deals in illegal armaments, outside of Hanamura,"

Hanzo scowled at the ape at his table. How dare he question his integrity.

"If there were other members of the Shimada Clan continuing the arms business, I would have found them! Do not be so quick to judge, monkey,"

Winston slowly stood up from his seat, "I'm not a monkey," he glared at the Hanzo through his glasses.

The air was tense in the dining hall, all eyes on the two arguing. They gave each other cold stares for a good minute. It was at that moment that Lena interjected.

"Uhh um… Oi! This sea bass is really good Hanzo! Very exquisite! Thank you very much for providing it!" she said.

Hanzo heard her words and realized the foolishness of the situation. He took a deep breath and relaxed, smiling at his guest.

"Arigato, Lena sama. I am glad you enjoy it,"

Winston realized it as well, and sat back down, straightening his glasses and sitting upright, composing himself.

Lena took another bite of the bass with her chopsticks, which she still didn't quite understand how to use (occasionally stabbing the fish with them from time to time).

"But really, this is very well made. Remind me to kiss the cook later," she said.

Hanzo gave a small chuckle at the remark, "You're talking to him," he said with a smirk.

Lena blushed, eyes wide. Everyone in the room laughed under their breaths, even Zenyatta and the guards. Tracer awkwardly swallowed her last piece of bass and laughed, embarrassed, scratching the back of her neck.

"Hehe um, well I uh… I didn't really… um,"

Hanzo waved it off, smiling, "Do not worry, I know you were only trying to ease the tension in the room," He then faced Winston, "Winston, I apologize. I understand if you do not trust my family's name. But I assure you, Shimada Castle is no longer a beacon of arms dealing anymore. You have my word,"

Winston sighed, "And I am also sorry. It was wrong of me to doubt you so soon, and act the way I did,"

Hanzo gave the scientist a nod of acceptance, then addressed his brother.

"Genji, may I have a word with you?"

"Of course," he said, then facing the others, "Excuse us,"

The two brothers stood and left the group.

XXXX

Hanzo led his brother to the balcony where they had last fought, still adorning the scars of battle. The air was still, with no sound but the two brothers' foot falls echoing gently around them. Hanzo stopped a few feet ahead of his brother, and turned halfway to face him.

"I am very relieved to see you alive and well," He said.

"I am more than that brother," said Genji, "I am whole once again,"

"Then why do I feel so much guilt?" Hanzo began, fully facing him, "Look at yourself. You are not the Genji who I sparred with, who I laughed with and grew up with. Look at what I have done to you,"

"Brother, of course I am not that same boy. But I have forgiven you. I do not harbor any hate towards you. It is time you accepted what I am, just as I have,"

Hanzo took a step closer to Genji, "How can I, when I am the one that has condemned you!? Look at what I did to you! You said it yourself, you can't even eat. You cannot feel the air upon your skin, taste the food in your mouth, smell the fragrances of anything around you... And it is all my fault,"

There was a short silence between the two brothers. Genji wished there was an easier way to convince his brother to let it go, but there was none. He unhinged his mask from his head piece, and held it at his side, looking at Hanzo with his real eyes. Hanzo looked away for a moment, then forced himself to look back. Genji began.

"You are right to say that I cannot do any of those things. You are also right to say that it is your fault.

Hanzo looked down in shame.

Genji continued, "But you are _still_ my brother, and because of that, I will always forgive you,"

He looked back up, staring at his brother with wide, guilty eyes.

"Hanzo, you mustn't hold on to the past like it is a problem now. You have to let go. It is holding you back. I am at peace, because I accept that this is me. I do not see a machine supporting the life of a man, and I do not see a man needing the aide of a machine. I see me. And I am at peace. Now it is your turn,"

Hanzo looked at the mechanical shell around his brother's body. _If he can be at peace like this, then perhaps he is right_ he thought to himself. He brought his eyes back to look at his brother's, took a breath, and let it out through his nostrils.

"You truly are at peace?" he asked.

Genji nodded, "I have never been more peaceful," he said, putting his faceplate back on.

The archer closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and slowly released his breath. His eyes opened, and a smile spread across his lips.

"I have missed you, Genji," Hanzo said.

"And I have missed you," Genji replied.

The two embraced, as long lost brothers would, finally realizing that everything would be alright. They backed away and held each others' shoulders, and smiled.

"Do you think mother and father would be proud of what has happened?" Hanzo asked.

"About the family business? Probably not. But of us? I know they couldn't be prouder,"

Hanzo nodded to that, and patted his brother's shoulder.

"Come, let us join the others. I believe your ship will be ready soon,"

So they walked down the hall, talking as if they were boys again, both of them finally at peace.

"So," Genji began, "How goes keeping up the family blood line?"

Hanzo Shimada gave a short laugh, "Even in your current state, I'm certain you would have better luck than I,"

Genji smiled under his faceplate, knowing full well that Hanzo was damn right. His brother continued.

"However, Lena sama. She is not like most women here. She has definitely caught my eye,"

"Well you better get in line," replied Genji.

"Oh? You have your eyes set on her?"

"No, but her heart belongs to someone else. That much I know is certain,"

"Better luck next time then," said Hanzo.

They had almost reached the end of the hallway when Lena blinked in front of them.

"Ah! Lena sama," Hanzo said cheerily, "How was the rest of your lun-" His words were cut short by the speedster blinking forward and pressing her lips against his.

Hanzo was frozen in time, eyes wide, not sure what was going on. The same could be said for Genji, as he removed his face plate from his eyes to make sure his vision was correct. Lena made a satisfying "Mmmah!" as she pulled away from the archer, and smiled. She then quickly spun around to face Winston and Zenyatta, who were not far behind.

"There! Are you happy!?" she yelled.

Winston was laughing furiously, and held up his fist to the omnic, who graciously fist bumped the ape. Lena turned back to the very confused Shimada brothers.

"Terribly sorry. It was a dare you see, and I'm not one to back down from a good dare," she confessed.

Hanzo laughed at the antics.

"Worry not. In your position, I would have done the same,"

Lena smiled, glad that Hanzo did not think any less of her. She then addressed his brother.

"So um, the ship's all prepped and ready, and Reinhardt and the others are already there, along with some other unfamiliar faces; a man and a girl. They say the guy is from Overwatch, and the girl is an orphan that's his responsibility, so it's alright. I think we should be heading out ASAP,"

"Hai," said Genji, "Brother, will you join us?"

"Only for a short time, then I must come back here. There is still much work to be done. But I will discuss tactics with you all, then I will depart,"

Lena and Genji nodded, and they all made their way to the courtyard, where their ship was waiting. While walking, Hanzo called over his guard.

"Daisuke! You are in charge while I am gone. Contact me if anything goes wrong. Do not betray my trust," He said sternly.

The guard bowed humbly, "Yes, my lord. I will not fail you,"

With that, they all boarded the ship. The vessel hovered over the ground, increasing its altitude, cloaked itself, and made its way to Watchpoint: Gibraltar.

XXXX

Reinhardt Wilhelm stood on the roof of a storage building on Watchpoint Gibraltar. The base was part of a large cliff that overlooked the Mediterranean Sea. Alejandra was beside him, previously listening to some of his old war stories. But the old veteran had taken a break for telling old tales of his past, and decided to look out and enjoy the view. He took a deep breath, feeling the wind rush around him.

"Mmm, I remember being stationed here. It was good for my tan," he said.

Alejandra gave an awkward smile at the comment, and didn't bother to pursue the topic any further than that. She decided to go off on a tangent.

"So, you kept fighting even after you were forced into mandatory retirement?" she asked.

"Yes, of course! There is no glory in leaving unfinished business! How about I tell you the time I fought dragons!"

It was at that moment Reinhardt spotted something in the sky. It was the dropship.

"They're here!" He said to himself. He then rushed to the other side of the roof and yelled, "They're here!"

The only agents who were not present were McCree and Mei. Everyone dropped what they were doing and ran to the landing platform, watching as the dropship made its slow decent. Reinhardt held Alejandra in one arm and jumped off the roof, landing squarely on the ground. They all then went to greet their friends as the hangar door opened. The only ones who stayed back were Alejandra and Morrison, who still had not revealed who he was to his team. Alejandra tugged on his jacket sleeve.

"Aren't you going to tell them?" She whispered.

"Not yet," he replied. "It's not time,"

Everyone else greeted Lena, Winston, and Genji as they exited the dropship.

"Lena, it's so good to see you! You haven't aged a day!" said Angela.

"Thanks love! You're looking great!"

"Torbjorn!" began Winston, kneeling in front of the dwarf, "you didn't sabotage that van like you said you would, hehe"

"You don't have to kneel down to talk to me. I can hear you fine from down here!"

"What was that? It's hard to hear you from all the way up here,"

Torbjorn grumbled. Genji had introduced everyone else to his brother and master, who all greeted them politely. That was when everyone heard an all too familiar voice.

"It's High Noon!"

Jesse McCree walked up from behind the ship, much to everyone's surprise. They hadn't seen him arrive at all, but were thankful to know that he had arrived safely. It was then that Lena noticed 76 and Alejandra, so she blinked over to meet them.

"Hey there. You two must be the new recruits!" she said cheerily.

Morrison hadn't seen her in years. His heart thumped furiously in his chest. He desperately hoped she had moved on from him, after being separated for so long. But it's not like it mattered. His identity was safe behind the mask.

"I wouldn't say I'm new to this, kid," he said.

Lena gave a giggle, "Alrightie then Mr. Mystery man in a mask. But what about you, love? What's your name?" she asked the girl next to him.

"Alejandra," she replied, awestruck that she was face to face with the one and only Tracer.

Lena smiled, "Well, welcome to Overwatch, Alejandra. We're gonna make a great team," She patted her head and blinked back to the reunion.

Once everyone had met everyone else, Angela had brought up a very good point.

"This means almost all of us are here!"

"That's right," said Reinhardt, "The only one we're missing is...Mei..."

Everyone fell silent. Then Winston spoke up.

"Yeah, where is Mei? She hasn't responded to any of the previous calls besides the first,"

They all exchanged distraught looks at each other. This was true. She hadn't contacted anyone, and hadn't responded ever since the Recall.

"We need to contact her," Winston said, "Come on,"

They had all congregated inside Winston's office, crowded around the monitor. Winston was typing in Mei's contact information, and waited as the computer processed the connection. Finally, an icon appeared. They had verbal connection with Mei, but her web cam failed to pop up. It was enough.

"Mei, please respond. We are all here. Why are you taking so long to arrive?"

No response.

"Mei, answer me,"

No response.

"Mei!"

The web cam popped up on Winston's screen. They all could see the back of Mei's chair. They could tell that she was sitting in it because her hair pin was sticking out like a sore thumb. Winston gave a sigh of relief.

"There you are. Mei, what is wrong? Why haven't you -"

The chair spun around slowly, revealing a broken Mei, bruised and bloodied and battered. Blood dripped from her mouth, scars on her face were infected. She was still breathing, but barely. Everyone gasped.

"Mei!" cried Angela, putting her hand to her mouth.

Lena, Reinhardt, and McCree all gritted their teeth. Winston desperately tried to get Mei's attention.

"Mei! What's happening!? Who's there!? Please answer me!"

Their question was immediately answered by a deep, raspy, condescending laugh. From out of the shadows, the black hooded mercenary stepped into the frame.

"Reaper…" gasped Winston.

Everyone stared in shock, not knowing what to do but just watch. Reaper slowly paced around the chair in semi circles, then he spoke.

"Well well. The gang's all back together," He said mockingly.

Winston growled, "Don't you dare hurt her further, or I'll-!"

"You'll what? Take half a day to get here? Heheheh, good luck,"

Lena shoved herself into the front, fury racing in her veins.

"You better not lay one more bloody finger on her!" she screamed.

Reaper held out the back of his hands, "My fingers aren't bloody… but they're about to be,"

He grabbed Mei's hair and tugged on it, waking her up. She grunted in pain, opened her eyes and saw who was on screen. She smiled weakly.

"Guys… you're here. I'm sorry, I was just… about to leave…" she could hardly talk.

"Yes she was, lucky for you," Reaper began, "she had just finished purging all her valuable data, so I can't track where you all are. Even now, I can't trace this call. Your encryption is too damned difficult to crack. But don't get me wrong," he said as he inched closer to the camera, "we will find you all, and rip you apart piece. By. Piece," He slammed Mei's head into the table.

Her cry of pain made everyone cringe. Morrison shielded Alejandra's eyes.

"Don't see this," he said.

Winston scowled at the mercenary.

"You're a monster," he growled.

"And you're a talking monkey," Reaper replied.

He pulled on her hair again, and showed her bloody bruised face to everyone. Blood dripped from her nose due to the table slamming, and tears inched down her cheeks. She looked at them all, savoring this moment, seeing them all together.

"Now," said her captor, "Since I'm a merciful monster, I will allow a few final words,"

A long moment of staring and frantic breathing filled the atmosphere. This was it. They were going to watch their friend die, and there was nothing that they could do. Mei managed a smile through all of this.

"Guys," she began, "I'm so happy to see you…" tears, "Good bye," she closed her eyes.

Reaper pressed her head against the table one last time, out of the frame of the camera, and held his shot gun, pressing the barrel up against her head.

"Stop! No!" Winston yelled.

A crack of a gunshot and a spray of blood was all they needed to know it was over. Angela turned away, crying. Reinhardt clenched his teeth and fist, "That bastard..." Lena and Winston just stared, eyes wide in disbelief. Torbjorn covered his face in his hand, "No… no...". Genji bowed his head. McCree's cigar fell from his mouth. Hanzo, Zenyatta, and Brigitte all looked away, feeling the loss of their friends around them. Mei was gone. Reaper pushed the corpse out of the chair, and sat down.

"I want this to be a message to you all. You won't rebuild Overwatch. Everywhere you go, everything you do, Talon will be watching you, clawing on every wall that you hide behind. I promise you, we will find you, and we will…" he dragged his thumb across his neck, "kill you,"

Reaper leveled his shotgun towards the camera, and pulled the trigger. The screen blinked out, showing nothing but their reflection in the dark glass. Winston slumped back in his chair, eyes wide, mouth agape. Lena walked over to the window, overlooking the landing pad, the sun setting over the horizon. Angela wept in her hands, and Reinhardt went to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. Lena took deep, heavy breaths, eyes shuts, brows knitted together, jaw clenched. Then, in a fit of outrage, she rammed her fist right into the window, giving one loud yell. Everyone looked over to her, eyes full of worry. She slid her fist off of the glass, and slowly turned to them, taking off her goggles, and staring back at all of them.

"We need to fight back," she said sternly.

"Of course we will," Winston replied, "but Lena-"

"Don't you 'but Lena' me! We just watched our friend die!" she yelled, "Mei… the one person on this team who would _never_ hurt a single thing! She's dead, and we couldn't do anything to stop it! We should have realized! We should have gone to her when we noticed she wasn't answering the calls! And now look! She's gone! We lost _another_ one to them!" she breathed heavily.

No one said anything, they just listened. Lena continued.

"Ana… Jack… and now Mei. They're dead, because of _them!_ … We have to fight, for them. For Ana, and Jack, and Mei, and everyone in Overwatch. That's what they would tell us, to keep fighting, and to win!"

Everyone had straightened up, hearing Lena's words, but the blow of their loss still held onto them. Morrison saw the pain in their eyes, the hopelessness, the powerlessness. He stepped forward.

"No," he said.

Everybody looked at him, confused. 76 continued.

"You will fight for Ana, and Mei, and Overwatch, but you will _not_ fight for Jack Morrison,"

Lena looked dumbfounded, and almost hurt by what this soldier was saying.

"What?"

Morrison reached up to his mask, and unclasped it, slowly bringing it down. Alejandra smiled softly. Everyone else had their expressions change from confusion to absolute shock. Lena's heart skipped in her chest.

"Jack…"

XXXX

Thank you all for your support again! I was very excited for this chapter because this is where the story will, hopefully, pick up. I hope this one was good for you all. I'm surprised I was able to get it done this quickly, but this is actually much shorter than I had planned for it. I promise, more action will happen after this chapter. And maybe a little more… fluff :D Don't forget to leave a comment please! Also, check out these awesome soundtracks, I think you all would very much enjoy them.

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These are not made by me, but I just wanna spread this guys awesome music around because it seems really under appreciated.


	6. Chapter 5

Hey! So starting now I'm going to have a lot of life get in the way, so chapters are gonna be delayed a little. So for right now there really isn't a schedule, but just expect them to be up like every two to three and a half days. I really want to do my best to make these chapters as best as I can, so I must take my time on them. I am very thankful for all of you who follow, favorite, and review this story! I just wish I could repay you some how, but all I have are my words. Thank you all again! Also, I'm glad I could make Mei's death a surprise to you all. I needed a martyr, and I just thought she was a good choice. Plus, it's pay back for freezing me as every other hero in the game :D. Also, I don't know where some of you are getting this Mercy76 vibe. I was never instigating that. While it is a good ship, it's not sailing in this fic. Lol. I mean, unless a little typo is the reason for your confusion? Maybe there was something in the lore that I missed? If there is, I have not found it. The "ship" in this is LenaxJack, because no one else will :D just clearing that up.

XXXX

No one could believe what they were seeing, except for Alejandra of course, who smiled at Morrison's actions. He had shown himself to his team, at last. Some doubt still crept up inside him, unsure of his decision. But when he saw their faces, with his real eyes, he knew he had done the right thing. Everyone else just stared, eyes wide, jaws hanging. Morrison took a moment to survey his team. There was a short moment of silence, then the former commander spoke.

"I would tell you to fight, and I would tell you to win, and that is what I'm doing now," he clenched his fist, still seeing the details of their friends' death, "We lost a good ally today… a member of the family. But we're still here. All of us. And it is our job to make sure that what happened to Mei… to Ana, to the rest of Overwatch, never happens again. I swear to you, that as long as I breathe, not one of you will die on my watch,"

They all listened, like they used to back in the old days, when they were a beacon of hope to the world. They still couldn't believe who they were seeing or who they were listening to. Their commander, their leader, who they thought had been dead and buried, was standing right before them. Jack continued.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was earlier. It wasn't time. I wasn't ready. But I'm here now, and I'm going to tell you that it's time to stop hiding from Talon. It's time to take the fight to them! I thought I could find out everything by myself, solve this world's problems by myself. But I was wrong. I need my team, _we_ need our team. And I'll be damned if I lose another one of you. It's time to get back out there, and protect our world, and show Talon that they won't pick us off one by one. Wherever Talon is, that's where we'll be. What ever Talon tries to do, we'll be there to stop it! We didn't start this war, but we're damn sure going to end it!"

Everyone heard his words, taking them in, and they believed in them; they believed in him, especially Lena, who could swear her heart was beating faster than a slipstream fighter jet. Was this happening? Was she looking at Jack Morrison? Or was her chronal accelerator malfunctioning? No, it coudln't be. Everyone else was looking at the same man. Reinhardt took a step forward.

"Commander," he said.

Jack shook his head, "I'm not your commander anymore, Reinhardt. I'm...I'm just-"

"You're back!" cried Lena.

Without thinking, she blinked instantly against him, pulling him to her, hugging him like he would leave this plane of existence if she let go.

At that moment, every Overwatch agent present joined in, crowding around in a large embrace. Jack felt the weight of everyone on him, not expecting this behavior. But then he realized this is exactly what they would do. This was his team, and he couldn't have asked for a better one, because he knew there was no better team than this. He gave a soft smile, a chuckle, and put his arms around who ever he could. He could feel Lena up against him, and a shiver went up his spine. Her cheek pressed against his chest, the warmth seemed to go right through his leather jacket. Memories flooded his mind, of better days, better nights, with her.

He pushed the memory aside, it would only spoil the moment. He looked all around him, his teammates, his family, embracing him. He hadn't felt like this in years. It was good to be back. They all backed away, giving him his space, except for Lena, who still remained closest to him, beaming up at him, but with tears of joy in her eyes.

"Why? Why didn't you tell us sooner?" she asked, wiping her tears.

Jack sighed, feeling guilty for making her cry.

"I thought it was the right thing. I thought that I could cut out this world's cancers by myself, and find out who else was responsible for the disbanding Overwatch. But I was wrong. We need our team if we're going to pull this off. Winston was right. The world needs us,"

It was at this point that Alejandra stepped forward to stand next to him. She gave a soft smile of approval at the old soldier, who smiled back. He was glad she had told him to show himself. He wasn't sure he would have done it if she hadn't suggested it.

"Also," said Jack, "I don't believe you've been properly introduced. Everyone, this is Alejandra,"

A short pause filled the room as Alejandra was addressed. She scanned the room, seeing everyone smiling brightly. It made her extremetly nervous, being put on the spot like that. She secretly wanted to punch Morrison for making her the center of attention, but pushed the thought aside. This was her time to shine, to talk to the heroes her mother had told her about when she was little. She would make this moment count. She cleared her throat and spoke.

"I'm very sorry about your friend. I could tell that you all cared about her very much… I lost my mama to Los Muertos a few days ago. I still can't believe she's gone. But she always had hope that I would live to see our world finally at peace. And seeing you all here, our heroes, together, it gives me the same hope. I want to help you all, in any way I can, to make that hope become true. I want to free my home of Los Muertos, and help make this world safe again, so that my mama can rest in peace,"

Lena smiled at this girl's bravery. She couldn't be happier to see that the world had just gotten a new hero, in training of course. She knelt in front of Alejandra and looked into her hazel eyes.

"Welcome to Overwatch, love. The cavalry just earned another soldier," Lena said.

Alejandra stood tall and proud, determined to prove her place among them. She was young, she knew, but she wanted to keep her promise to her mother. She would do what she could until she could fight along side these heroes, and live up to her name.

Despite the small moment of joy in the room, Morrison had to pull everyone back to reality. He wasn't going to just leave Mei there. The sinking feeling of a grenade being dropped into his stomach took him over, as he remembered the grizzly sight of Mei's death. They had to say goodbye to their friend properly.

"Everyone, listen up," he said.

The group looked his way, ready to hear his orders.

"We have to retrieve Mei's body. We need to send her off properly. She was family, and we don't leave family behind. Winston, you have her coordinates?"

"Affirmative," replied the scientist.

"Good. Genji, Angela, go with him. There may be Talon agents there. I'm not risking anything anymore. In the mean time, this base isn't going to start up by itself. The rest of us will get this place back up and running,"

Everyone could feel Morrison turning back into the leader he used to be, taking charge without even needing to ask. They welcomed it, because it was what they had always done; let him lead them into battle. Jack would always be a natural leader, even if he wasn't trying to be. He continued giving orders.

"Lena, you know the interior of this base better than anyone. I need you to find the back up generators and activate them, as fast as you can,"

"I'll get it done even faster!" she replied.

"Torbjorn, I want defensive turrets all around the perimeter. Nothing unauthorized is getting in here without getting through a wall of lead,"

"Let's get started," said the dwarf, brandishing his trademark hammer.

"Jesse, weapons check. Make sure every firearm is secured and accessible. I don't want an ambush taking us by surprise with our pants around our ankles,"

"I hear ya," replied the former Blackwatch agent, with a tip of his hat.

"Reinhardt, you and Brigitte unload any and all supplies from your van, and put it to good use. Also, find some supplies to repair your armor, it's about to fall apart,"

"Right away, commander!" said the old veteran, eager to see his old friend take charge again.

Jack closed his eyes, shaking his head. It didn't feel right to be called commander. That was back in a time when it meant something. He didn't want to be called by that profession. It wasn't who he was.

"I said I'm not your commander anymore. I'm just a soldier," he said, trying to tell them his days as Strike Commander Morrison were over.

But Reinhardt just laughed, pushing aside the comment. He walked over to Jack and placed his hand on his commander's shoulder, smiling down at him with his one good eye.

"Jack," He began, "You knew what you were doing the moment you took off that mask. No matter what title you give yourself, you will always be our leader,"

Jack couldn't say this wasn't true. After all, he did just order everyone to do specific tasks. The orders just came so naturally to him, like instinct. He looked up at his old friend and nodded, as if seeing Reinhardt's war torn face for the first time. He went back to face the rest of the team.

"Alright Overwatch, you have your orders. Move out!"

"Yes sir!" They all exclaimed, and went to attend to their assignments.

It was then that Morrison noticed the two newcomers; the omnic monk and Hanzo, awkwardly standing by the opposite wall, not knowing what to do with themselves.

"You two," he said, pointing to them.

Hanzo and the Zenyatta directed their attention towards Jack. He stuttered, realizing he couldn't remember the Shambali's name.

"Um, what was your name again?" he asked.

"Tekhartha Zenyatta, Mr. Morrison," he replied.

"Go help Reinhardt and Brigitte unload their supplies. I know you omnics can be surprisingly sturdy, despite your thin frame,"

Zenyatta acknowledged his task and drifted away. Morrison then addressed Hanzo. He looked him over, remembering the crimes the Shimada clan had committed, and recalled that Genji had done what he could to end their ruthless black market dealings. He was unsure why Hanzo was even here.

"Hanzo Shimada. What exactly are you doing here? If you're looking to trade weapons with us, I'm afraid the only payment you're going to get is a prison cell," he said sternly.

Hanzo shook his head, a little urked that his family name's reputation preceded him, once again. He stared back at Morrison with fire in his eyes.

"I have come to redeem myself, and help my brother's cause. But I wished to only discuss tactics with you, then I must return to Shimada Castle," he said briefly.

"Well tactics will have to wait. We're nowhere near that stage yet. How about you join your brother in retrieving Mei's body. I'm sure they'll welcome the backup," Jack suggested.

Hanzo was opposed to this at first. This was not the plan. If there was one thing he hated more than missing a target, it was deviating from the plan.

"How will I be able to contact you then, to coordinate our cooperation? I do not have a way to communicate with you," he argued.

Morrison pondered this for a moment. If Hanzo really was going to help them, he would have to keep in touch, and not by sending letters every week. He didn't have an answer to this, but he knew someone who did.

"Go talk to Winston. I'm sure he has some kind of communications device that he can lend to you, until we find a more permanent way of keeping you in the loop," Jack finally said.

Hanzo nodded and made his way to the dropship, where his brother and new colleagues were preparing for their departure. Morrison sighed. This was it, they were rebuilding Overwatch. He couldn't believe it. For the first time in many years, Jack Morrison actually felt peaceful. He didn't even realize Alejandra still standing next to him, until she cleared her throat, obviously wanting to be noticed. He looked down at the young recruit; arms folded, looking up at him. He could tell already what she wanted before she even had to ask.

"So um, what can I do?" she asked, a hint of anticipation in her voice.

Morrison chuckled at her youthful eagerness, surprised that she was so quick to work. Then again, she is the kind of girl who would chase after some thugs for taking her wallet, so this behavior shouldn't be much of a surprise. He knelt down and spoke.

"You and I are going to be doing some weapons training," he said.

Alejandra smiled, and gave an enthusiastic, "Yes!". She was more than ready to learn what ever she could.

"But," Morrison interjected, "it is only for self defense. You won't be seeing any combat until you're older, and most of all, stronger,"

That put her enthusiasm to a low point. She knew she was strong. She didn't want to be held back. She wanted to pay back Los Muertos as soon as possible.

"What?! But, I'm strong! I can take-"

"Then prove it to me by doing what I say," Jack interrupted, not wanting to argue with the kid.

She stopped and thought about that for a moment. There really was no other alternative. If she wanted to be a part of this team, to avenge her mother, she couldn't argue. She looked back to Morrison and nodded.

"Okay, sorry. I'm just…"

"Eager, reckless, hard headed," Jack said.

Alejandra felt a little hurt by that, but admitted to herself that it was true. She looked away, a little shame creeping in her chest.

"Just like I was when I was your age," he finished.

She looked back at him, realizing that he meant no offense, but rather, a kind of teasing compliment. She smiled and giggled a little, which made him do the same. Morrison stood up.

"Come on kid. Let's teach you a thing or two,"

With that, they made their way to the shooting range.

XXXX

Winston, Angela, and Genji were just about to leave when Hanzo grouped up with them, explaining the situation. He told Winston about how he had to go back to Hanamura once the mission was complete, but he needed a way to communicate with Overwatch while he was gone. The scientist provided him with a device he called a 'holocom', which was essentially a wrist mounted gauntlet that could communicate with Winston's computer via hologram screen and built in microphone. Hanzo attached the new equipment to his right arm, replacing his previous gauntlet. Satisfied with how it fit, he thanked Winston. After everyone was ready, Winston put in the coordinates of Mei's base.

"Athena, set course for Lijiang Tower," said Winston.

The dropship rose into the air, cloaked itself, and made its way to its destination. Hanzo was interested as to why a former Overwatch agent in hiding would choose such a high profile place to reside. It didn't seem to make any sense. It seemed more like painting a big red target on your head. Winston explained.

"Mei was always extremely involved with the planet's ecosystem. Before Overwatch fell, she had told me that she was planning to work with Lucheng Interstellar to create some kind of atmospheric weather machine, to provide rain water for communities that could not get enough. Once Overwatch fell, however, she fled to China, and I guess she has been working there ever since. Turns out it… wasn't the best place to hide however. She didn't deserve what happened to her. She only wanted to make the world better…" Winston trailed off, unable to continue speaking. He felt a lump forming in his chest, the kind that always comes when you talk about something unpleasant.

Hanzo understood the pain Winston was feeling. It was the same pain he had felt when he thought his brother was dead. Except, there was no hope of bringing their friend back from the brink of death. They had all watched the shotgun blast remove her head from existence. He put his hand on Winston's shoulder, and looked him in the eyes.

"We will make them pay. We'll make them all pay for what they did. There is no honor in killing someone so innocent," he said firmly.

Winston smiled at the bowman's kindness and nodded. He then took his seat in the pilot's chair, and began to indulge himself in some banana's and peanut butter.

Hanzo took a seat on the bunks at the opposite end of the dropship. Genji appeared to be sound asleep on the bunk above, his hands clasped together along his chest. Hanzo guessed it had been a long day for his brother. Good, he needed the rest. He began to adjust his storm bow when Angela sat on the bed opposite him. She had taken off the wings of her Valkyrie swift-response suit and set them neatly on the bed. Hanzo hadn't noticed her approach, so he continued to inspect his weapon. Knowing there was a long time before they reached China, Angela decided engage in conversation.

"Hello there," she said.

Hanzo looked up from what he was doing, startled. He saw Angela in front of him and set aside his bow, almost embarrassed he hadn't noticed her.

"Oh! Konichiwa. My apologies, I didn't see you there," he replied.

Angela gave Hanzo a reassuring smile, waving it off.

"No worries. I'm sorry I startled you. I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I am Angela Zielger. Pleased to meet you," she extended her hand out.

Hanzo shook it, and was thankful to realize her handshake was not as enthusiastic as Lena sama's was.

"Hanzo Shimada, at your service. You are the one who saved my brother from death, are you not?"

Angela nodded, "That is me,"

"Then I suppose he has told you how he came to be in such a state…" he said solemnly.

"Yes, he has," she acknowledged, "And while I do think that your actions to your own flesh and blood were rather extreme, I respect a man who is trying to redeem himself. So, I am pleased to meet you,"

Hanzo was relieved to hear that. He didn't want to have any feuds with his new allies, especially the one who had given his brother a second chance at life.

"For what you have done for my family, I thank you, Dr. Ziegler. I am forever in your debt," Hanzo stood and bowed humbly before her.

Angela laughed softly, not wanting to wake up Genji from his sleep.

"You are just like your brother; always being so noble and putting yourselves in my debt. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was a loan shark," joked Angela, "And please, call me Angela. I hear the name 'Dr. Ziegler' all the time from Genji. I keep telling him we're friends and that he can stop referring to me as doctor, but he still insists,"

Hanzo nodded, "If it pleases you, Angela sama," and he bowed once again.

"Danke," replied Angela.

Hanzo took his seat on the bed once and went back to inspecting his storm bow, making sure it was prepped for battle. He tightened the draw string to a desired length, adjusted the sight window, and looked through the bowsight, making sure it wasn't out of place. Satisfied, he inspected his quiver, checking to see how many arrows he had. He counted just over a dozen, meaning he had to use them sparingly. Four scatter arrows, two cable arrows, four sonic arrows, and three armor piercing arrows. He'd make every shot count

"How long until we reach our destination?" he asked the doctor.

"It is a half a day's journey to Lijiang Tower. So we have a moment to enjoy some peace and quiet. Just a moment though. Jack anticipates an ambush there, which is why he sent four of us to retrieve Mei," Angela took a sudden pause in her speech and averted her eyes from Hanzo. She clenched her fist, the scene of her friend's death still clear in her mind.

Hanzo noticed the pain and rage in her eyes, the essence of anger and sorrow mixing inside of her. She took slow, heavy breaths as the scene played vividly in her brain. It almost seemed like this wasn't the kindhearted doctor he was just conversing with. He swore that her palms would bleed through her gloves if she clenched her fists any tighter. But suddenly, she closed her eyes, took a deep, slow, tranquil breath, exhaled, and relaxed. The rage was gone, but Hanzo could still see the pain. Perhaps it would stay until they had retrieved the body, maybe not even then.

"I am deeply sorry for your loss, Angela sama," Hanzo told her, being as sympathetic as he could be. He knew the agony of loss only too well.

The medic looked back to him and smiled softly.

"Danke schön," she replied, and after a brief pause, "Let's… not talk of my friend right now. It's not good to cloud the mind with unpleasant thoughts before a mission. Let's talk of something else," She suggested.

Hanzo understood. He did not wish to make this poor woman's day worse than it already was.

"Then what shall we discuss?" he asked.

Angela thought for a moment, tapping her chin with her index finger. She wanted to learn more about her new comrade, but where to start? She snapped her fingers and smiled, finding the perfect subject for conversation.

"Genji has told me you have taken back your family's clan. What do you plan to do for your new business, if you will no longer engage in illegal arms dealings?"

Hanzo was taken back by the straight forwardness of the question, not expecting it. He was also embarrassed. He did not want to reveal the route he had taken to restore his family name.

"It is… um, none of your concern," he said, trying to redirect the conversation to a different subject.

Angela just folded her arms, determined to get her answer.

"If you expect us to be partners, then we must learn to trust each other. And trying to keep secrets from one another is not the way to start. Do not tell me that you are going to be selling illegal substances behind our backs," her eyes were full of suspicion, wanting the truth from the bowman.

Hanzo gave a sigh. She was correct. If he was to be of any use to Overwatch, and help his brother's cause, then he had to make them trust him first.

"Very well," he began, "We are not involved with illegal black market business anymore. But, in response to the recent increase in demand… the Shimada Clan will be investing resources to provide the public with… b-… body pillows…" he looked away in shame.

Angela brought her hand to her mouth, trying to conceal her laughter as best as she could, but to no avail.

"What?!" exclaimed Genji, apparently eaves dropping on the conversation.

He rolled off his bed and landed silently on his feet, but spoke to his brother with the subtlety of a tidal wave.

"Tell me you are joking. You cannot really be serious about going into that business. Surely you wouldn't put our family's name to shame like that!"

Hanzo replied, "Until we have found a better, more profitable product, this is what we must do. I don't see you providing any suggestions, Genji,"

"Hanzo, we have amazing cooks, including yourself. You could turn the court yard into a restaurant! Something much more dignifying than producing… that _other_ item," Genji argued.

Hanzo seemed almost disgusted at the idea of letting others inside his home.

"I will not let people tarnish and disrespect my household with their outlandish lack of manners,"

"Oh you sound just like father, never wanting to let anyone, even his closest friends, set foot inside even the main gate. No wonder mother liked me better. I was always the one with an open mind!"

"I do have an open mind! I just don't want people taking advantage of my hospitality. So why let anyone in at all? And I do _not_ sound like father," Hanzo replied, folding his arms.

Genji gave the 'what are you talking about' gesture with his hands.

"That is exactly what father would say! He was always in denial about everything mother said to him! He didn't even listen to her when she told him to take his medication so he'd live long enough for their anniversary!"

Hanzo stood up, glaring at his brother.

"Well at least I was _there_ by his side as he passed on his death bed, while you were out with your friends! You didn't even come when I told you he had died!"

"Because he told me he was dying the day before!" Genji yelled.

Silence filled the room, Angela looking from one brother to the next, Winston staring from across the ship, silently eating a banana. Both Hanzo and Genji breathed heavily, anger and frustration coursing through them. But finally, those last words from Genji processed through Hanzo's clouded mind. He took a step closer, wanting to know the truth behind what his brother just said.

"What?" Hanzo asked.

Genji took a few breaths, realizing he had made a mistake saying what he did. But it was too late. He couldn't hide the truth from his brother. He had said too much to not tell him everything. An aching feeling clawed at his synthetic chest, the kind that you have when you break a long kept promise. He began.

"Father… spoke to me in private, the day before his death. He told me of his condition, and that he would pass the next day. I asked him why he only called me over, and not you as well. He told me that it was not your time to find out. He then…" Genji stopped, beginning to shake, and brought a trembling hand up to his face plate.

He removed his mask, and wiped the tears that were currently dripping down his face. He didn't bother to put his mask back on. He looked his brother in the eyes, and continued.

"He then held my shoulders, and told me… that he could not have been more proud of either of us. He told me that he saw our mother when he looked at me; always joking, always trying to get out of the house. He made me promise two things: to never tell you of this moment between him and I, and to never change who I was, no matter what,"

Hanzo blinked in realization. His heart felt like it had dropped right into his stomach. The elders had forced Hanzo to maim his brother for nothing. Genji continued.

"That is why I refused to obey the clan's orders, because it would dishonor our father's final wishes. Blood is always thicker than water. I thought you would have gone by the same code," he finished, securing his faceplate to his headpiece.

Hanzo's shoulders slumped, seeing how much of a fool he had been. He let the elders manipulate them like their puppet, and pitted him against his own brother. If they hadn't gone into hiding, Hanzo would have put an arrow for each of them by now. He looked back at Genji, feeling guilt crawl up inside him again, and spoke.

"Genji, I had no idea. I was only-"

His brother cut him off, holding up his hand.

"We have already had that conversation, Hanzo. We need not go back. The truth is out. That is all,"

Hanzo supposed his brother was right, trying to clear his mind of the guilt. The last thing he wanted was to be going around in circles. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off again by Genji.

"Another thing that father told me once, was that he wanted you and I to leave the arms dealing business anyway,"

Hanzo was stunned even more by this than the previous news. His father took pride in their arms dealing business. Why would he want his sons to throw it all away? Not that he was going to continue the business practice anyway.

"What? Why would he say that?"

Genji chuckled before he said anything, "He said we would just run it into the ground. He told me we were good fighters and tacticians, but we would make horrible business men,"

Hanzo almost objected to the statement, but then remembered he was about to go and provide body pillows as his clan's main product. Perhaps his brother was right. It most likely was more reasonable to turn the courtyard into a restaurant. At least their family name could recover from the sins of the past. Regaining his composure, Hanzo smiled at his brother.

"Our family is full of secrets, isn't it Genji?" he said.

His brother nodded, "Indeed. But, the fate of our clan will have to wait. We must prepare for the task at hand,"

With the tension in the room settled, the rest of the flight to Lijiang Tower was rather calm. They discussed what exactly the Shimada Clan could provide for Overwatch: spies, information, names and hide outs of Overwatch enemies long thought disbanded, crooked ambassadors that may have had a part in Overwatch's downfall, even military hardware if need be. The list seemed endless, and Hanzo felt he was one step closer to redeeming himself.

It took the better part of half a day, but they finally reached the Guangxi province, where Lijiang Tower resided.

"Now arriving at Lijiang Tower," Athena reported.

Winston knuckle walked to the cockpit, to see the busy streets and the bright lights of the metropolis. Except, there were no bright lights, and the streets were not their usual busy self. Winston couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Guys… you may want to take a look at this," he called.

Everyone made their way to the cockpit, and shared the same look of disbelief with the scientist. The city below them was completely dark and abandoned; not a light in a window and not a person in the streets. They were flying above a ghost town. The only illumination that was provided was the light of the moon overhead. Other than that, the city seemed cold, dead, deserted.

Genji said, "What happened here?"

"Athena," Angela said, "show us the news, keywords, Yuunan, China,"

Instantly, the main monitor flashed on, displaying the Atlas News channel. The woman reporting the news was speaking of some kind of massive electrical magnetic pulse that originated from Lijiang Tower, and spread all across the Guangxi province. It not only fried every electrical appliance in the area, but ended the lives of every omnic citizen in the province. The news reporter stated that every human civilian had been evacuated, while the People's Armed Police were doing everything they could to retrieve the bodies of the deceased omnics. In the mean time, Lijiang Tower has been labeled off limits until experts could properly investigate the reason for the EMP.

"It has to be Talon," Winston surmised, "Who else would want to make this second omnic crisis worse? First they kill Mondatta, now they destroy an entire civilian population of omnics!"

"Not to mention," Hanzo began, "they now have a pretty large blanket to cover their escape. No one is going to see them leave in this darkness,"

Winston ordered Athena to keep them cloaked and scan Lijiang Tower for any life forms. If there were Talon operatives there, they'd be ready. Ten seconds passed, then Athena reported.

"I'm detecting seventeen life signs in total. Twelve on the second floor and five in the basement, all armed,"

The drop ship hovered ten feet away from the fourth floor of the tower. Winston gathered everyone around him in a type of huddle.

"Okay, here's the plan: There are more exits on the second floor rather than the basement, so we should begin our assault there. More enemies will be waiting for us, of course, but at least we have an escape if the Talon soldiers in the basement react quickly enough to reenforce the second floor squad. I suggest we enter through the fourth floor window, and make our way down to the Talons on the second flo- Hanzo, what are you doing?"

Everyone turned to see Hanzo walking to the emergency exit on the side of the ship not facing the building, holding a cable arrow in one hand, storm bow in the other. He opened the hatch, backed up four steps, and smirked at the other three, who just stared, not ready for what he was about to do.

"Try to keep up," he said.

With that, Hanzo sprinted and jumped out of the dropship. The three ran to the emergency exit and watched as he fell. In free fall, Hanzo spun around, bow drawn, and fired his arrow, the long, fine, titanium wire trailing behind it.

The cable was easily six and a half meters long, not including the arrow, which embedded itself in the underside of the ship. Once Hanzo was far enough, the cable became taut. Gripping it as tight as he could, he swung forward, his momentum carrying him straight for the second floor window. Cold air rushed past Hanzo's face, his hands burned from holding the titanium wire, feeling it chafe his palms. He was close enough to the window now. Hanzo released the cable, kicked his legs out, and shielded his face from the glass he was about to shatter.

The window broke from his impact, shards of glass flew through the room; Hanzo winced as some even scraped and cut his bare skin. He worked through the pain, like he always did. He tucked and rolled once he hit the floor, drew a scatter arrow as he knelt upright, and released it. The arrow found its mark inside a Talon agent's head, and instantly exploded into a half a dozen other arrows, hailing and ricocheting off the walls, ceiling and floor. Five more Talons dropped dead, receiving multi arrow death blows. Hanzo smirked, but quickly dove for cover behind a couch once the rest began to fire upon him.

Back on the drop ship, Winston, Angela, and Genji watched as Hanzo crashed through the window, the cable swaying back and forth underneath them. The cyber ninja turned to his colleagues.

"Well, come on!" he yelled.

He leaped from the exit and grabbed Hanzo's cable on the way down, using his momentum the same way Hanzo did, and launched himself through the empty window frame.

The Talon agents were so busy shooting at Hanzo, that they hadn't even noticed Genji flying at them, katana in hand. Still mid flight from his momentum, Genji grappled the closest Talon by the head and used his enemy's weight to anchor him down, while also snapping snapping the Talon's neck, pulling the lifeless body to the floor. He then spun and decapitated the Talon next to him, his head sliding off as blood poured from his bisected neck. The rest of the soldiers directed their attention to Genji, but they were too slow. The ninja dashed forward with his katana, slitting the throat of one enemy and then throwing three shurikens into another. Hanzo seized his chance and vaulted over the bullet torn couch and threw his arm around the second last Talon in front of him, keeping him in a choke hold. With his free arm, he pulled an arrow out of his quiver and plunged it into the Talon's chest. He gave a blood curdling scream before instantly dying, the arrow piercing his heart.

The last Talon was already running out of the room, activating his comlink,

"Backup! We need back up dammit! It's Overwatch! They're here! Everyone is – Aaaaagh!" The Talon felt two large and heavy hands drag him back.

XXXX

"Backup! We need back up dammit! It's Overwatch! They're here! Everyone is – Aaaaagh!" the feed was cut short by static.

The six remaining Talon soldiers in the basement were setting up explosive charges all around the room, ready to leave as soon as they got the all clear, and blow up Lijiang Tower, but that last transmission from the squad on the second floor told them there wasn't going to be an all clear.

"What the hell is going on up there?" Asked one of them.

The one who received the transmission replied, "Overwatch is here. Second floor needs back up,"

"Back up?! Screw that. Let's just set the charges and get the hell out of-" Crash. Crash. CRASH, "What's that noise?"

The floor above them collapsed right on top of the Talon agent, crushing him under a pile of ruble, and one pissed off looking gorilla.

"S'cuse me for dropping in," it said before roaring and leaping onto two other Talons, crushing them under his weight.

Winston swung his arm around, colliding with another enemy, sending him flying across the room, impacting on the wall on the other side. He fell to the floor, supposedly unconscious, but still breathing. Winston immediately spotted the last Talon trying to make a break for it, but to no avail. Activating his jumpjets, Winston flung himself at the Talon operative and pinned him to the floor, making sure not to completely crush the man.

The other three fell in shortly after the battle, Genji and Hanzo simply landing in the rubble, while Angela gracefully floated down with the use of her Valkyrie suit. She surveyed the area, overlooking the complete destruction of Mei's base.

"I hope that you at least left one of these unfortunate souls alive. Perhaps we could, oh, I don't know, get some information out of them?" she said with a condescending tone.

Winston already was interrogating the Talon he had pinned to the floor, not bothering to listen to Angela.

"Where is Mei's body? Answer me!" the scientist bared his teeth, his breath almost causing the soldier to gag.

"By the computer you blind ape!" he replied.

Hanzo and Genji took over for Winston, training their weapons on their captive. Winston knuckle walked over to the computer, and sure enough, he found her. Angela joined him, and shuddered. There, on the floor, in a pool of dried blood, her winter coat stained in dark crimson, with most of her head missing, lay the body of Mei. Angela placed her hand on her mouth, trembling inside. It was one thing to heal wounds, replace limbs, encase an entire man in a robotic body, but to see your own friend, dead, without even their head attached, that was something else.

Winston lifted the body from the ground and gently set it on the table. He and Angela kept their eyes downcast upon their fallen friend for a moment, filled with grief. Her blue and white winter coat was coated in dark red now. The base of her neck and her bottom jaw were all that remained of her head. Angela held onto the cold, lifeless hand. On the verge of tears, she said,

"I'm sorry...Mei. I wish we had came for you as well… I'm so sorry,"

She clenched her teeth together, the tears breaching her eyelids, streaming down her face. But she didn't make a sound; just let them fall to the ground silently.

In the mean time, Genji and Hanzo decided it was time to get some answers from their prisoner, the former lifting the Talon soldier off of the ground and pinning him against the wall instead. Hanzo kept his bow and arrow trained dangerously close to the Talon's head, while Genji utilized his cybernetic strength to hold him back with one arm.

"Time to talk. Who is running Talon?!" Genji demanded, brandishing his shurikens from his forearm, holding them between his fingers.

The Talon operative scoffed, "If you think I'm going to spill my guts to a bunch of freaks, you've got another thing coming,"

In response to the remark, Genji pressed his shurikens up against the Talon's midsection, making him wince.

"Oh? I don't believe we will have a problem spilling your guts. Now talk!" Genji replied.

Behind his tactical mask, the Talon agent looked past his two captors and through the open door behind them, recognizing an all too familiar silhouette holding a rifle, sights trained on him. He knew his fate then and there, and looked back to the Shimada brothers. Taking a deep breath, he said,

"Okay, okay. I'll talk… You all can go to hel-" BANG.

A bullet flew right between the heads of the two brothers, and straight through the eye of the Talon. A glorious spray of blood stained the wall they were facing. They spun around and saw the source of the gunshot. Widowmaker, standing several feet away from the door of the basement, lowered her hybrid rifle, blew a kiss to Genji and Hanzo, and ran out of sight. Genji made a move to go after her, but Hanzo stopped him.

"I've got her," he said confidently.

Scatter arrow already drawn, he released it, watching as it collided against the corner of a wall. The arrow exploded into its smaller counterparts, ricocheting off of every surface they struck.

Widowmaker was almost out the door when an arrow cleanly went through her ankle. She screamed, feeling the pain shoot up and down her leg, losing complete control of her foot. She tried to push herself up, but knew that it was pointless with her injury. Just when she thought she was about to be Overwatch's next prisoner, she heard the raspy voice of her partner.

"Well, it looks like I'm going to be the one saving your sorry ass today," Reaper said, as he materialized in front of the sniper.

For once, Widowmaker actually felt relieved to see the walking smoke cloud.

"Just get me out of here, sil vous plait," she asked coldly.

Reaper picked her up off the ground and slung her over his shoulder so that she faced his back, and, more importantly, so that her 'back' faced him.

"Hmph," she said, "you could at least carry me a little more romantically, Reyes,"

"Shut up or I'll drop you," he replied, wraith forming with her out of the building.

Hanzo ran into the main hall of Lijiang Tower, bow drawn, scanning the area. Arrows were scattered all around the room, but no sign of his target. Had he missed? No, he couldn't have. He heard her scream. Hanzo noticed something fluid by the glass doors, shining in the moonlight. He went to inspect it, and knelt down. Blood. He knew he didn't miss, she was far too slow. But still, the fact she was not hear only frustrated him. Someone must have came for her. He stood up and made his way back to the basement.

When Hanzo returned empty handed, his brother was less than pleased.

"What happened? Where is Widowmaker?" he demanded, clearly upset that they lost their only prisoner.

"She had help," said Hanzo, dismissing his brother's behavior, "I suggest we depart as well, lest they return with a greater force,"

Winston and Angela walked over to the two brothers, the former holding Mei's body in his hands. Hanzo saw the damage done to their friend, feeling his stomach churn at the sight of the gore. While he knew no one here was a stranger to grizzly images, this was their friend, and he found it wrong for them to have to see her this way. He began to remove his shirt, much to everyone's surprise.

Angela asked, "Hanzo, what are you-"

Without speaking, the bowman gently draped his shirt over Mei's corpse. No one had to say anything. They understood and nodded, grateful for the respect Hanzo gave to their fallen friend. The four of them headed out, Winston and Genji at the head of the group. As they made their way to the exit of the basement, they failed to notice one Talon soldier regain consciousness.

Laying on the floor, he feigned death until he was past their vision. Silently, he prepped a grenade, pulled the pin, and tossed it to them.

The soft clink clink of something metal echoed behind Hanzo and Angela. The former turned his head and saw the grenade roll at his feet. No time to do anything else. He tackled Angela as quickly as he could.

"Grenade!" he screamed.

Detonation.

XXXX

Longest chapter yet. This took a while. Hope you all enjoy it! Can't wait to start on the next one. Thank you all again for your wonderful comments! I'm glad I could finally get some action going. Hope there will be more coming soon!


	7. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER! This chapter takes place at the same time as the previous one, so don't get confuzzled heh. Not as much action in this one, sorryyyy. But we'll get back into it soon enough. Hope you all enjoyed the last Chapter! I just want to give a big shout out some peeps who have really inspired me during the process of making this fic. Thank you very much Time Pony Victorious for giving me some advice on how to improve my writing! You've really shown me some awesome tips, and I feel like my writing is already getting richer. And thank you Mason Tims for also providing great support! Your in depth reviews have been very useful and always put me in a good mood! And thank you to all the rest of the followers and reviewers for your support and kind comments as well! You all are the real reason this story keeps going. I hope to provide you with more stories in the future, and will try to read some from each of you as well! In the mean time, here's the chapter!

XXXX

It was incredibly dark in the generator room, even with one of Winston's high powered flashlights, which Lena was currently using to navigate her way to the backup generators. Every step she took made a satisfying, yet, admittedly, creepy echo throughout the room. She honestly didn't understand why Winston hadn't bothered to do this himself. He did live here after all. It would have saved her the trouble of turning this place on, that's for sure. But she guessed the scientist didn't really have a need for a fully operational base while in hiding.

"Come on loves, where are ya?" she said out loud, as if expecting a response from the generators.

A few more steps and a few turns led her right to them. Large layers of dust lay over the massive blocks of machinery like a veil.

"There you are,"

There were ten backup generators in total, standing lifeless before Lena, no power surging through their conduits. Not wanting to waste any time, Lena got straight to work. She blinked from one to the next, in quick succession, as she flipped each generator's switches. The switches made a satisfying clink as they were pulled into the downward position. A little moment of anticipation gnawed at Lena as she gripped the last one. _Please turn on_ , she said to herself. She pulled it. A brief moment of silence, darkness, nothingness. The pause in time ate away at Lena, as she waited for something, anything to happen; anything good, at least. Then it happened.

The room was suddenly lit with glorious bright light. Monitors and terminals all around Lena hummed to life, their screens and LED's flashing and glowing. The rest of Watchpoint Gibraltar came to life, lights flashing on, hangar doors lumbering open, and blank computer screens, all throughout the base, now blinking 'Password Protected'.

"And we're back in the game!" Lena exclaimed to herself.

Satisfied with her work, she made her way back to the surface of the base, occasionally blinking to speed up the process. She took in the familiar surroundings, memories of when she was stationed here coming to mind. Lena remembered the time when Torbjorn almost fell of the cliff and Reinhardt only had enough time to grip the dwarf by the beard to save him. His jaw was dislocated for over a week. And then she remembered Jack, and his daily routine of jogging around the base early in the morning; six o clock AM to be exact. Some times she'd wake up early just to jog with him, to be around him, enjoy the small moments of peace that they had, while it lasted.

Lena's heart rate began to increase as the memory continued, a tight feeling in her chest, the kind that you get when you had deeply missed something from your past. She stopped blinking with her chronal accelerator, and started blinking with her eye lids instead, tears threatening to well up. She slowly tread up the staircase, the wall of their past slowing her pace. She remembered how he would smile at her, how he would laugh when ever she jumped up from behind and wrapped her arms around him, her legs dangling one foot above the ground.

Lena's skin crawled with goosebumps; another memory finding its way in. She remembered the weeks spent in Ilios, near Santorini Island. An omnic offensive was dominating the territory, with nothing but Jack, Lena, a squad of other Overwatch agents, and a small militia of Greek citizens to halt them. She replayed the scenes in her mind, vividly, seeing Jack rallying the two groups together in the final push against the omnic invaders. The determination and fire in his eyes moved his soldiers, inspiring them, telling them that, on that day, Ilios would be free.

The 'official' story behind that battle was that Strike Commander Morrison led his troops and the militia to a glorious victory, with minimal casualties to the heroes, and maximum casualties to the omnics. But Lena knew the truth. She saw as the inexperienced militia were gunned down by Bastion units in their sentry modes, watched as her squad was cornered into an ambush, and how the only survivors were herself and Jack. They were the only ones who managed to flank around and pick off the Bastions one by one, while they watched their comrades fall, ripped to shreds by the gatling barrage. The final Bastion unit was already severely damaged, but managed to retreat in tank mode, disappearing into the wilderness. Authorities never found that one unit, saying that, without proper resources to repair itself, it would eventually fall apart on its own. In Morrison's eyes, it was one of his greatest defeats of his Overwatch career.

For the rest of their time stationed on Ilios, Jack had no desire to talk with anyone, to step outside of his quarters, not even to eat anything, for days. Lena tried to comfort him, telling him that those brave men and women died for what they believed in, and that they couldn't have had a better leader. She tried to tell him that his words made them fight unlike any other soldiers she had ever seen, and that, if they could, they'd be honored to fight by his side again. That's when he told her; confessed his secret guilt, that it was more than just seeing his squad get mowed down like forsaken weeds. Jack had tried to convince himself that it was just a tactical necessity, that there was no other way; tried to tell himself that, if there was an alternative, he would have seen it. There was none, so he took the only way out. And to add insult to injury, the government didn't even have the decency to tell the truth of the mission, perhaps to continue the thought that Overwatch was always gloriously winning every battle they fought in.

" _It almost seems like their lives were worthless, and that the only things of any value are the words of people who weren't even there,"_

That took Lena aback. She couldn't believe that Jack would say such a thing. He valued the life of every soldier under his command, more than his own. Until this day, Jack had never lost a single soldier. Doubt started to creep into Lena's mind. It ate her up to hear him talk like this to her, made her almost not trust him with her life anymore.

The moment played like a movie in her head, as Lena recalled every detail.

" _S-so, is that Jack Morrison then? Is this the leader that I throw myself out on the battle field for, every day? If we were in that same situation, and I had died, would you consider me as just another **tactical necessit** **y**?"_

Morrison stood up and grabbed her upper arms with a force he had never used on her before. His grip was like a pair of iron vices, it almost cut off the circulation to her muscles. She didn't bother struggling, but couldn't help but feel terrified, her heart racing fast and hard in her narrow chest. She looked up at Jack, expecting to see rage and fury all over his face. But nothing could be further from the truth. Jack stared down at her with grief and guilt, but also seemed to yell something at her, without saying a single word. She just kept staring, trying to find out what he were telling her. His steel blue eyes stared deep into her hazel eyes, as if he was peering into her very soul. That's when she realized; That thing that Jack was yelling at her; he was yelling that she was wrong.

Of course she was wrong. She knew Jack wouldn't throw away the lives of soldiers, especially his own soldiers. She knew he valued them like brothers and sisters; how could she think otherwise? When Jack made a split second decision, it's because there really was no other way. They had completed their mission and lived to fight another day. Guilt welled up in her chest, and she opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.

" _You are more than a tactical necessity. But it's not just Overwatch that needs you..."_ a pause, he loosened his grip on her arms.

His grasp became less forced, and, instead, more gentle, tender. Lena trembled in her place, still looking up into his eyes, no longer racked with grief, but filled with compassion. The mood had changed in an instant, from anger and distrust to tranquil and confusion. She braced for what he would say next, anxious to hear it, but never would have guessed it.

" _ **I** need you," _he finished.

Those words cut through Lena like a razor. She knew exactly what that meant, but still felt the inclination to ask. A billion questions seemed to swim in Lena's mind, she couldn't even control herself. Did he mean that? Was he being honest? Was he even feeling like himself? What does this mean for the future? Can this even work? But before she could ask any of these, she felt her legs move on their own. She was getting closer to him, almost instinctively. Morrison wasted no time. He pulled Lena up against him, and -

"Woah! Watch where you're going there, Lena,"

She was flung back into the present. Lena almost walked right into Reinhardt, carrying what seemed almost like a ton's worth of scrap metal. Getting her senses back, Lena backed up with a blink of her Chronal Accelerator.

"Ah! Sorry Reinie. Guess I was a little spaced out. Hehe…" Lena said, scratching the back of her head, slightly embarrassed for not looking where she was going.

Reinhardt raised an inquisitive eyebrow. He may only have one eye, but he didn't need it to see there was something else bothering Lena.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked gently, almost like a grandfather.

Lena almost wished Reinhardt wasn't so kindhearted. While she did appreciate her friend's willingness to talk to her, there were somethings that needed to be dealt with personally, and her angst about the past was one of them. She felt bad for lying, but she honestly didn't want to converse about her thoughts right now.

"Nope! I'm tip top, don't you worry 'bout me," she fibbed with a wide, chipper smile.

Reinhardt didn't need either of his eyes to see through the lie, but just smiled through his white mustache, not wanting to press the matter any further. He didn't want to force Lena to talk; that would just be counter productive. If there was one thing he knew about women through his years, it's never push them to talk to you.

"Okay. But if you need to talk, you know where to find me," and he marched off, scrap metal wrapped in his massive arms.

Lena watched as Reinhardt left, relieved he didn't continue to ask questions. She thanked him, in her head, for the offer, but she needed time to herself.

"I wonder if I left anything in my locker here," she said aloud, and found herself making her way to the locker rooms.

XXXX

Thanks to Lena activating the backup generators, Morrison and Alejandra were able to enter the shooting range and begin with her lessons. The future hero was beaming with anticipation, but secretly shook with a hidden nervousness. She had never even held a gun before. What would it feel like? Would it be too heavy? Would it make her feel unstoppable? Courageous? Heroic?

Jack set his heavy pulse rifle on the back table and unholstered his sidearm, at least, that what it looked like. After inspecting it for a short minute, Jack walked over to Alejandra, and held the weapon up, barrel to the ceiling.

"You know what this is?" he asked plainly.

The girl shrugged, "A gun?" she said, almost sarcastically.

"It's a high velocity, armor piercing, pulse firing, forty five millimeter, semi automatic hand cannon. Can punch a hole through the front of an M3A3 Abrams super heavy main battle tank. And can put a decent dent in a human too," he finished off, jokingly.

Alejandra couldn't help but giggle nervously at the morbid humor. While she did want to avenge her mother and bury Los Muertos, she still was a kid. It would take time for her to get used to the reality of the situation: one day she would have to kill. But this was just weapons training, that's what she had to focus on right now.

Morrison continued with the overview of the weapon. Alejandra watched as he pressed something on the side of the grip, releasing the magazine. He displayed it to her, showing the rounds inside.

"Each magazine holds twelve armor penetrating, pulse munition rounds. It's not a deep magazine, so keep track of how many shots you've taken. When you're out, press this-," he showed her the button alongside the grip, and tapped it with his thumb, "-to release the magazine. To reload, just slide a fresh mag back in," he did as he said, creating a satisfying click once the magazine hit home.

Holding the gun by the barrel, he handed it to Alejandra.

"Show me," he said bluntly.

Alejandra had a photographic memory, something her mother always envied, and did exactly what Jack had just done. She pressed the release with her thumb, letting the magazine slide out, and held it in the other hand. After a brief pause, she slid the magazine back into the grip. She looked to Jack for approval, who gave a nod in return. He held his hand out, palm upward.

"Now give it back," he commanded.

Alejandra did as she was told and handed the weapon back, with the barrel facing him. Jack grabbed the gun, holding it firmly by the grip.

"Now that was exactly how to _not_ hand a gun to someone," he said calmly but authoritatively.

Alejandra bared her teeth in embarrassment, the tips of her eyebrows pointing upwards. She felt so stupid for making a mistake like that. Morrison just chuckled.

"Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it," he said, "But from now on, you always hand a gun to someone like this,"

He grabbed the barrel of the gun and handed it to Alejandra, grip facing her. She took it, and immediately mimicked his action. Smiling and nodding, Jack reclaimed the weapon, and continued with the lesson.

"Now that the magazine is in the gun, we gotta get the round in the chamber. Watch," he pulled the slide back forcefully, making it click back and forth in quick succession, "Now it's primed and ready to fire. Show me,"

They exchanged the weapon between each other, and Alejandra copied Jack once again, except with much more effort than him. It surprised her as to how difficult it was to pull back the slide, she could barely budge it without almost hurting her fingers. She handed it back to him after he nodded with approval.

"Now, the one of the most important parts, the safety," He showed her the manual safety switch on the other side of the hand cannon, "Right now it's on. You're not killing anything, and you don't want to kill anything," he flipped the switch, "Now, you're ready to kill, to defend yourself and your allies. The gun is only pointed at your enemies, nothing else," he stared at her, making sure she was paying absolute attention. This was something she couldn't afford to screw up. Turning the safety on, he handed it back to her, "Show me,"

She held it just as he had, so that the safety was facing him. She stared back at him with equal intensity, to show him she had been paying close attention. With her index finger, she demonstrated what he just showed her.

"Safety on; I'm not killing anyone, and I don't want to kill anyone," switch, "Safety off, I'm ready to kill, to defend myself, and my allies. This is only pointed at enemies," She switched the safety back on.

Morrison nodded again, proud of her display. He took the gun back, and demonstrated how to properly hold and aim the weapon. Aiming down the shooting range, Jack explained what he was doing.

"You want to keep your dominant arm locked out and your support arm bent, almost against your chest. Make sure your front and rear sights are as level as possible. Don't close one eye, that just messes with your depth perception. Keep them both open. And then-"

The shot from the hand cannon was probably the loudest sound Alejandra had ever heard, and it came by so fast. She didn't even have enough time to cover her ears. She could feel the air shake around her after the shot was taken, her bones vibrating in her body. She didn't even know if she could bare to hear it again; it might pop her ear drums. But she was also awestruck by the sheer power. The target dummy's cranium was completely gone.

Morrison saw how shocked she was and smirked. She was still new to this.

"You'll get used to it. Here, it's your turn,"

Alejandra took the gun in her hand and aimed it down the shooting range at her target. Her heart thumped fast in her little chest as she lined up her shot, holding the heavy weapon just as Jack showed her, at least, she thought she did. Her nervousness tampered with her photographic memory.

"Keep your arm locked," he said sternly.

She locked out her arm in response.

"Your _other_ arm!"

Her dominant arm locked out, her support arm slightly bent. She took deep slow breaths, focusing on her target dummy. The sights were perfectly leveled. Biting her lip, bracing for the incoming sound, she pulled the trigger.

A hole instantly ripped open where the neck was, sending the head of the dummy flying right off. Surprisingly, there wasn't a ringing in her ears. She had been so focused she didn't even hear it. Either that, or she had already gone deaf. No, she couldn't have, she heard Morrison whistle right next to her. But still, the power in her hands, Alejandra couldn't believe it. She lowered her weapon and admired the sleekness and raw force of what she held.

"Nice shot kid," Jack said, "You've got the eye of Ana Amari,"

Alejandra giggled at the compliment, glad that she had impressed her commander. Morrison just smiled, remembering when he first fired a weapon. It didn't matter what age you were; your first time with any firearm was scary as hell. He pointed towards the firing dummy with vigor.

"Again! Three precision shots. Two at the heart, one in the gut. Go!"

She followed his orders like a good soldier, pumping the shots right where Jack instructed. The size of the wounds eventually made the dummy fall apart into a mess of broken aluminum and steel. Adrenalin rushed through Alejandra, feeling every shot shake her bones. It seemed too easy to pull the trigger; she felt dangerous. As she turned on the safety and lowered the gun, she could clearly see what she'd do with her skills. It was if the weapon itself was giving off some kind of voice, a whisper in her mind. She was going to put Los Muertos six feet under with this thing, that was a promise.

The violent thoughts left her when she felt Jack's hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw his smile of approval, both gentle and authoritative at the same time.

"Good job kid," he said

Alejandra experienced a mixed bag of pride, joy, and excitement. She had just learned how to use a gun, a skill she never thought she'd ever need in her life, and she was a damn good shot as well.

"Aha! Weapons training I see!" exclaimed the all too familiar German accent from behind.

Jack and Alejandra turned to see Reinhardt walking through the door way, still holding his cache of scrap metal. He decided to make one last detour before heading back to Brigitte and their new partner, the omnic, who's name he couldn't remember for the life of him.

"Good evening Mr. Wilhelm!" Alejandra greeted kindly.

"Kleine! How about I teach you how to fight like a real warrior. Don't bother with these barbaric projectile weapons. A true soldier knows how to fight with their bare hands!" said the old veteran

Morrison chuckled, "I'm going to train her in every martial arts technique I know, don't you worry,"

"Ah, but Jack, we both know you could _never_ best me in a fight! I think I am more than qualified to teach this kleines fraulein a trick or two," said Reinhardt, almost challenging his fellow soldier.

Jack just rolled his eyes. Clearly Reinhardt's memory wasn't as sharp as it used to be, because Jack recalled besting him numerous times in sparring matches. Either that, or the glory of Reinhardt's victories overshadowed the memories of his defeats. Either way, Jack just let Reinhardt revel in times long past.

After a moment of recollection, Reinhardt gave an unsatisfied look at Morrison. Something about the way Jack presented himself didn't sit well with him; it didn't seem like it suited the former commander at all.

"Und for goodness sakes Jack, let's get you some new clothes!" Reinhardt complained.

Jack was taken aback. He was not expecting a statement like that from Reinhardt at all. Nonetheless, he did feel somewhat offended that his friend didn't appreciate his new style.

"What? These clothes are fine. There's nothing wrong with them," he said as he displayed his jacket, filled with various rips and tears and bullet holes from his previous battles.

Reinhardt raised an eyebrow. Apparently he wasn't the only one with impaired vision.

"You look like a throw rug! Come on, I've got something a little more… old fashioned in mind," Reinhardt said with a smirk.

Morrison gave an inquisitive look, wondering what it was his old friend had in store. Shrugging, he agreed to Reinhardt's request.

The three of them made their way to Reinhardt's van, where Brigitte and Zenyatta were still unloading supplies into the base. Reinhardt set the scrap metal down, stretching his sore arms, and led Jack and Alejandra to the van. Inside the back of the van, Reinhardt opened up a long compartment, similar to a locker. Morrison stood in dumbfounded surprise to the contents of the storage unit. Hanging up inside was his old uniform; the navy blue coat and gauntlets, the armored chest piece, the multi layer, armor plated boots and shin guards, it was all here. A rush of nostalgia washed over Jack, walking over and inspecting the long lost equipment.

"Reinhardt, where did you get this?" he asked, picking up one of his gauntlets.

Reinhardt scratched his beard, "Um, let's just say I borrowed it for… historical purposes,"

Jack couldn't say he fully understood what the old soldier was talking about, but he just accepted the answer.

"Historical purposes… Got it,"

Morrison held the shining gauntlet against his forearm, comparing the size.

"Hm… Might be a bit tight," he observed.

"Ah Commander, in my opinion, that uniform always looked tight on you!" Reinhardt commented.

Jack turned his head, raising a 'what's that supposed to mean?' eyebrow at the German veteran. Reinhardt realized he had said that out loud, embarrassment running up and down his spine.

"W-what I meant to say is, eh, it will fit like a glove," he corrected himself.

"… Thanks," replied Morrison, turning back to his uniform, pulling it off the coat rack.

Jack held the pieces of his uniform in a neatly folded pile, making his way out of the van. The sun had almost completely set on them, preparing to let the moon take its place in the sky. A warm breeze rushed past Morrison, who welcomed the gentle wind.

He looked down at the clothes he held again, remembering a time when this uniform meant something to the public. Whether it meant justice or hope, Morrison knew it didn't matter now. But maybe one day, after all this was over, it could mean those things again. It was then that Jack remembered something; an item from the past he knew was still here.

"Reinhardt, how about you take over Alejandra's lessons for me real quick. There's something from the lockers I need to get,"

At the news, Alejandra beamed with delight. She was dying to hear the story of when Mr. Wilhelm fought against dragons. Reinhardt almost shared the same smile, eager to teach the new recruit.

"I'll make a warrior out of her yet. You do what you have to, commander. I've got this," the old veteran reassured.

Jack nodded and the group split up, Reinhardt and Alejandra walking back to the firing range, and Morrison making his way to the locker rooms.

XXXX

The locker room looked like it hadn't been touched in years; probably because it hadn't. Moon light began to shine through the open window, showing a cascade of dust particles floating gently through the air. Convinced that no one was around, Jack changed his clothes. After a brief moment, he looked in the mirror. The uniform was kept in pristine condition. It almost looked new. Reinhardt did an excellent job in maintaining it. Despite the gray hair, the scars adorning his face, and a few wrinkles, Jack felt like he was looking into the past. Though he did admit, it was a little tight around the waist. Guess he'd have to hit the gym later on.

He walked over to his locker to retrieve what he had come here for; the badge of the strike commander. Jack opened his locker, and there, hanging on the back wall, just as he had left it nearly twenty years ago, was his badge. The silver eagle shone proudly in the moonlight, beckoning Morrison to pin it on his coat once again, showing that he was ready to return to the past, to be Strike Commander Morrison. Without thinking, Morrison brought his hand up, reaching out to the badge. His fingers were inches away from it, when suddenly-

"Hiya!" the weight of Lena Oxton blinked onto Jack's back.

He felt her arms wrap around him like she used to do years ago. He felt her body lay on his shoulders, heard her soft giggle in his ear. At first, Jack gave a startled gasp, but realizing who had assaulted him, he just laughed. Feeling her hold on to him made him feel young again, and at first, he welcomed it.

"Heh. Hey, Lena," he replied.

Oxton blinked off his back and stood attentively, her wide smile spread across her face. She was so happy to hear that laugh again. She could already feel him coming back to her, which is what she wanted.

"Got the old uniform on, I see!" she said.

Jack replied, "Yeah. Reinhardt had it, after all these years. Said he kept it for 'historical purposes', what ever that means,"

Lena gave a soft chuckle, "Well, I'll tell you what: It makes you look thirty years younga',".

Ironically, that made Morrison remember he wasn't thirty years younger. It also reminded him why he couldn't be with Lena anymore. Every bit of logic in his head told him it was wrong, that he'd just end up hurting her even more when it was all over. He didn't want that, he didn't want to hurt her, he didn't want her to lose him again. He didn't want her to watch him die, while she kept on living. That's when she said it.

"I missed you, Jack,"

His heart squeezed itself in his chest; that was exactly what he didn't want to hear. He tried to redirect the conversation.

"Missed you too, I missed all of you. I'm glad we all answered the ca-"

"You know what I mean when I say that, Jack," Lena interrupted, walking closer to him.

Her limbs moved on their own, her legs stopping inches from him, her arms wrapping around his waist. Morrison could feel his body heat increase, his muscles and nerves tensing up as she closed the gap between them. This wasn't right. He couldn't let her in again. But her hazel eyes stared back into his blue ones, set, determined; she wasn't going down without a fight.

"I want to continue where we left off," she said, "I want you back,"

Jack sighed, shaking his head.

"Lena… No, we can't,"

She didn't avert her eyes, just kept looking up at him. But those words cut her deep. She didn't understand why he'd say that. Her heartbeat increased, honestly not wanting to hear the reason, only wanting him to change his mind.

"Why not?" she demanded, still holding him.

"I… I'm not a young man anymore," He said bluntly.

"Jack, if I cared about that, I wouldn't be here would I?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

He hated it when she gave him that look. That was her 'you know I'm right' look, and he damn sure knew she was right. It ate him up inside to reject her, but he didn't want to go further with this, he couldn't.

"Lena, please. It's too late,"

By this point, Lena let go of him, frustrated by his stubbornness. But she did what she could to keep calm, looking at the old soldier in front of her. She didn't want to end things here. She wanted him back.

"Do you know how awful I felt when I heard what happened in Switzerland? We thought you were dead, Jack. I… I thought I lost you. I was about to rip this harness off of me and just fade out of existence! I didn't want to be here without you. But you know what I told myself? Would Jack want you to do that? Would he be proud of that? No, he wouldn't. So I stayed, because of you. And you know what? It gave me hope; hope that you really weren't dead, hope that you were still out there, somewhere. And now, here you are! Right in front of me,"

Her heart raced again, wanting to just jump on him again and never let go. He may have had a scarred face, graying hair, and tired eyes, but to her, she still saw her Jack Morrison in there, and she wasn't going to give up. She tilted the corners of her mouth upward, softly grinning at him.

There it was again, that sweet, irresistible smile. Morrison held back a gag, not because he was disgusted with her, but rather disgusted with himself, with what he was about to say. He cared about her, he truly did, but hearing what she was about to do to herself, after hearing of his supposed death, only made him more worried. He wished he could just tell her, but something held him back, some invisible force just dragging the words down his throat. Why can't he just tell her he'll pass away long before her? Why can't he just tell her he didn't want her to watch him die?! He had enough. He scowled at the floor and muttered two words.

"Get out,"

Her heart skipped a beat. The smile faded from her lips immediately, eyes full of confusion and pain. Lena took a step forward, swearing that she didn't hear him correctly. Did he just tell her to get out?

"What?" She asked, refusing to believe what he just said.

Morrison didn't repeat those words. Keeping his eyes on the floor, he said,

"That's an order,"

Lena blinked, forcing back tears. She stared, dumbfounded at the man she thought she knew. He pulled rank on her. He never pulled rank on her. For a moment, it seemed time had froze, her blood felt like ice in her veins. Maybe he wasn't the Jack Morrison she knew so long ago. She gritted her teeth behind closed lips, her confusion and grief turning into anger. Without another word, Lena blinked to the door of the locker room with her chronal accelerator, and blinked again, leaving Jack alone.

Morrison took one deep breath, and let it out slowly. Guilt crawled and clawed at his chest like rats in a maze. After what he just said, he couldn't tell if he had done Lena a favor, or made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He was torn between relief and doubt. Jack couldn't do anything, except slam his fist into one of the lockers behind him, caving the locker door inward.

XXXX

"… Qué?" Alejandra asked, gesturing to the pile of gun parts in front of her.

Reinhardt had taken the hand cannon apart, separating the weapon into its individual pieces, and was trying to get the new recruit to put it back together, without a manual. The only parts that weren't on the table were the rounds. Reinhardt didn't want an accidental firing on his watch. All Alejandra could make of it was cruel and unusual punishment.

"That gun isn't going to rebuild itself! Get on it, Little One," Reinhardt said encouragingly.

Alejandra just gave a frustrated grunt.

"It's too difficult! You didn't even give me any instrucciones!" she complained, folding her arms against her chest.

Her new teacher just shook his head. If this were a cadet from boot camp, he would have put her in her place, right under his boot. But, she was just a child, an undisciplined one at that. He'd set her straight, but for now, he had to be patient.

"You think there is going to be instrucciones on the battle field?" He bellowed sternly, "You need to know your weapon inside und out! We're going to keep this up until you get it right, und then you'll be doing it ten more times! Now, just give it your best sho-"

He was cut short by an aggravated growl. Reinhardt and Alejandra looked out the doorway and saw Lena, furiously blinking by. Something had pissed her off clearly. The two poked their heads through the doorway and saw her blink to the roof of a storage room, over looking the Gibraltar sea.

Rienhardt was intrigued. There weren't a lot of things that upset Lena, but seeing her frustrated was something else. What ever the cause was, he knew she needed a little talk.

"Brigitte!" he yelled.

His companion set down a crate, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and acknowledged his call.

"Yeah boss?"

"Watch this kleine for a moment, please! There's something I need to do,"

Brigitte nodded and walked over to Alejandra as Reinhardt made his way to the rooftop.

"Hi sweetie," said Brigitte, kindly, kneeling down to her height, "What's that old guy making you do?"

Alejandra just pointed to the mess of gun parts on the table, clearly not enjoying her task. Brigitte just smiled, amused by the child's stubborn attitude.

"Oh, that's easy," she said, "Here. I'll show you a thing or two,"

XXXX

Reinhardt reached the roof of the storage room, where he saw Lena, pacing back and forth, apparently muttering to herself. Cautiously, he made his way to her, starting to hear her more clearly. For a split second, he heard Lena mention Jack; that's when it all began to click in his head.

"Lena," he said calmly.

She stopped her pacing and looked at her old friend, not fully composing herself, but just enough to greet him.

"Oh, hey Reinhardt," she said, then went back to pacing and muttering.

Reinhardt just smiled, almost amused by her frustration.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, only wanting to gently pull the information out of her.

He knew when and when not to approach if they needed to talk to him, and right now, Lena clearly needed to open up. She didn't stop her pacing, but began venting after a brief moment.

"It's Jack! I mean, I thought that, after all these years of separation, that he'd be happy to see me, that he'd want to pick up where we left off! But no, apparently not. He thinks he's too old for me, or something. Maybe he thinks I'm to young for him? That doesn't make any sense! I just don't get it! He's pushing me away for no reason. And you know what he did that really pissed me off? He pulled rank on me! Yeah, that's right! He pulled rank! He never does that, not to me at least!" She gave off another anger filled grunt, pacing faster, "I don't know what's going on in that head of his. I don't know how men think! You're a man, right Reinhardt? Yes, of course you are. You're one of the manliest men I know. Tell me, do you know what's going on in his head?"

Reinhardt took a seat on the air conditioning unit. He could tell she didn't understand Morrison 's reasoning at all, saw how torn apart she really was. Did she really not know?

"Come, sit down. We need to talk," he said, making as much room as he could for Lena.

His wide frame took up pretty much all of the AC unit. But Lena shook her head, waving off the offer.

"I- I can't sit down. Just- Just talk to me, I'm listenin',"

Reinhardt just shrugged and began, afraid of what her reaction would be when he revealed the truth to her.

"I'm surprised you don't know this, and even more surprised that no one has ever told you, after all these years,"

Though she looked like she was ignoring him with her pacing, Lena was listening closely. What did she not know? What were the others keeping from her? Reinhardt continued.

"Lena… you don't age," he said.

That stopped Lena dead in her tracks. Did she hear that correctly? She turned to face Reinhardt, a billion thoughts flying in her head, none of them good. He looked back at her, sympathy staining his eye. Lena's eyes blinked a few times, processing what he just told her.

"What?" she asked.

Reinhardt sighed. It almost broke his heart to have to tell her the ugly truth. It was going pretty much how he had expected.

"Your… condition, the chronal disassociation, is the cause of it, as you would expect. I'm no doctor, und I don't know all the science behind it, but what I do know is that your molecules are not fully stable. Even with your chronal accelerator, you are still not really… here. Why else do you think you're able to zip back und forth through time at will? The instability of your molecules and its reaction with the chronal accelerator are what allow you to do those things. In a sense, you are trapped in this time, forever. Haven't you noticed that you aren't getting any older, at least physically?"

The facts rained down on Lena like a missile barrage. She hadn't noticed at all. All these years, fighting, running, hiding, it didn't really matter to her how old she was. But finding out that she hadn't aged since the Slipstream accident, the reality of the situation was-

"Oh my God… Are you saying that, I'm going to live forever?! Oh God… I'm- I'm going to live forever. I'm going to live forever! I- I don't want that. No no… no no no! That means that," the realization hit her harder than Jack's rejection, "… I'd have to watch you all… die,"

Reinhardt nodded. His old heart trembled, watching her reaction to the truth. He saw the panic in her eyes as she realized her fate, watched as she ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm herself down. He could only imagine how scared she was.

"Exactly," he said solemnly, "Und that is why Jack thinks it would be better for you two to be… well, apart. He doesn't want you to watch him grow old, and lose him. He thinks it will tear you apart,"

Lena processed this for a moment. She couldn't deny it, it probably would tear her apart. But it almost seemed worse to have him push her away. She was already being torn apart, when it all came down to it. She lost him once, could she really go through losing him again? She shut her eyes and clenched her fists, pulling herself together. She's gone through worse, and she knew it. Thinking that Jack had died without her being there would always be more painful, than watching him pass right before her eyes. At least she could be with him in his final moments.

"That doesn't matter to me! I would rather watch him grow old than never live with him at all! I'm not going to just sit back and let him push me away. He knows me better than that!" She said, confidently.

There was fire in her eyes, the kind that wouldn't be put out no matter how hard you tried to snuff it. Reinhardt smiled, seeing Lena's confidence put him at ease. But, knowing her, she'd probably rush headlong into this battle, like she always did, and not think ahead. That's how you get shot down.

"You know, that floating robo-man, eh… Zarya I think his name is," he began.

"It's Zenyatta," Lena corrected, chuckling at Reinhardt's confusion.

"Ah yeah, whatever. I was talking to him for a bit earlier, and, let me tell you, he has some very interesting catch phrases. My favorite one is, 'A warrior's greatest weapon, is patience,'," he finished.

Lena heard what Reinhardt had to say, but couldn't help but roll her eyes and smirk.

"You know I'm not very keen on patience, Reinhardt,"

The old veteran chuckled,

"I know, but for this, you must be. Give him time. He's gone through a lot. Between surviving an explosion to leading us all again, you can't expect him to just come right back. He isn't a rubber band, he's a soldier. And soldiers need time to rest and recover,"

He was right, and Lena knew it. The realization dawned on her that she shouldn't have been so forward. She was just so happy to see him again that, she just thought he'd feel the same way. But then again, that's how she was; rushing in without thinking.

She sighed and accepted the situation. There would be time to talk things over with Jack later. Right now, they had a war to win. She set her emotions aside for the time being.

"Thanks Reinie. Oi, what is wrong with me?! I've just been an emotional mess lately!"

Reinhardt laughed,

"You're young! It happens! Don't bother thinking about it. Just remember; Be. Patient," he emphasized the last two words.

Lena rolled her eyes again and nodded, not needing the repetition.

"Alright, alright. I think I'm going to go spend some of this patience in the gym, and relax a bit,"

"Haha! That's a good idea. Maybe you'll end up like that one Russian weight lifting champion, um, Zenyatta I think her name was,"

Lena couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"That's Zarya! And no, I wouldn't want that at all. Cheers to her for gettin' that bod, but that's not for me!"

With that final comment, Lena blinked down the stairs. The news of her supposed immortality still lingered in her mind, however. If it was true, then she wasn't sure what she was going to do, or even how to feel. How could she go through life now, knowing that she'd be this way, while everyone grew old around her. She had to get these thoughts out. The future was long ahead of her. No need to worry about something you couldn't control. She just needed a good workout to clear her mind.

XXXX

After that unpleasant conversation with Lena, Morrison needed a good workout to clear his mind. He bumped into Jesse on his way and, without realizing it, began talking about his predicament. The two talked as they went to the gym, where Jack was now bench pressing a good amount of weight; 1900 pounds to be exact.

The serum injected into him years ago gave him the strength of twenty men, and then some; this was just a warm up. He spoke to McCree as he benched, feeling his augmented muscles burn with every contraction.

"I mean-," grunt, "She's a smart woman-," grunt, "She should understand-," grunt, "What I'm trying to do-," finishing his set, Jack released the bar on the supports, and sat up.

His sweat was already soaking his white Overwatch regulated tank top, creating a dark wet triangle down the middle. He panted slowly, catching his breath. It had been a while since he'd hit a gym. McCree just leaned against the wall beside him, silently listening to his commander while chewing on his lit cigar.

"What do you think, Jesse?" Morrison asked.

The former blackwatch agent tilted his head.

"Well, I think you coulda' stood to put on an extra 45 pounder or two on that bar. That was way to easy for you,"

Jack's eyebrow twitched.

"I was talking about Lena," he said coldly.

"Oh," replied McCree in realization, "Well, honestly sir, I'd say you're more trapped than a jackalope in a barrel, in between two fellas fannin' the hammer on their six shooters, at high noon,"

Jack just stared at Jesse with the look of complete dissatisfaction on his face.

"Thanks Jesse, you're a lot of help,"

Jesse pulled his cigar from his mouth, holding it in between his finger and thumb.

"I'm not finished. The way I see it, the only way out of your predicament is to either jump out, and run with your furry little tail between your legs, or, you can get out there and stop 'em,"

Morrison still didn't understand what Jesse was getting at.

"Okay, but how?"

"By tellin' 'em you want to live your life they way you want it, and that part is entirely up to you. We've only got so much time in this world, Jack. Sure would be a shame to waste it on doin' nothin',"

Jack pondered this for a moment. He couldn't deny the fact that he wanted to take Lena back. Seeing her again triggered something in him that he thought he had suppressed long ago. But he still couldn't allow it to happen. He knew it would be a nightmare for her, having to watch him get older and older, while she stayed young, not aging a bit. He didn't want to put her through that pain. But then again, he was hurting her now by rejecting her, by ordering her out of the room. Jack didn't know what to do anymore, but he knew that what Jesse said was actually good advice.

"Dammit, why do you always have to be right?" he said as he pulled off his shirt, annoyed by the cold damp cloth on his chest.

Jesse just smirked at his commander's comment, placing his cigar back in his mouth.

"Guess I've just had more game than you, Jackie boy," he said, tilting his head down to cover his eyes with the brim of his hat.

Morrison just rolled his eyes and stood up. He locked his fingers together and reached up, stretching his sore chest muscles. It was at that moment when Lena walked in, her flight jacket slung over her shoulder, and, instead, adorning a slim fitting tank top under her chronal accelerator.

Despite being in his fifties, Jack still possessed the body of an Olympic athlete. Lena blushed as she noticed him stretching, not believing he had the same physique from thirty years ago. He may have gotten older and grumpier, but from the neck down to the waist, he was definitely still Jack Morrison.

It took him a good second to realize Lena had walked in, and immediately tried to find his shirt.

"Lena! I'm sorry, I was- um. Jesse, where's my shirt?"

"I have no idea what you're talkin' about, commander," replied McCree, keeping his cybernetic arm behind his back.

Jack scowled at him, then turned back to face a giggling Lena Oxton.

"Jack, love, I've seen you shirtless. It's alright. No need to cover yourself up like a school girl," She quipped, setting her jacket down on the weight rack.

Nonetheless, Morrison couldn't help but feel slightly perturbed, not to mention annoyed by McCree's antics. Speaking of which, the gunslinger gave a loud yawn from behind.

"Well, I think I've had my fill of the day. Time to get off the saddle and get some shut eye. Good day commander," he said as he tossed the sweaty tank top up in the air, which Jack promptly swiped back.

McCree walked by Lena, holding something else in his hand by this point.

"Goodnight, darlin'," he said, tossing the other object to her as he passed, leaving the two alone in the gym.

Lena caught it, and noticed it was a pair of vintage aviator glasses. He actually remembered to get her something while on the plane.

"Wicked! Thanks love!" she said as she examined her new headgear.

She set the glasses on her jacket, then turned to face Jack, who was putting his damp shirt back on. Lena was almost disappointed.

For a moment, there was tension in the room; painful, awkward tension. They were just talking an hour ago, and now, here they were again; together, alone. Morrison scratched the back of his neck, not really sure what he should do. Fortunately, it was Lena who made the first move.

"Jack," she said, stepping towards him, "I understand now. Reinhardt… told me everything,"

A wave of relief washed over Jack. He could feel a massive weight lift off his shoulders, knowing that she finally understood. But even so, the advice that Jesse had given him mingled in his head. Lena continued.

"And, I get it, I really do. If you don't want to come back to me, I won't do anythin' about it. But I want to tell you that I'm not givin' up on you. I'll wait, 'cause I got all the time in the world,"

But Jack didn't. In fact, he was running out, give or take another forty years, but still, it wasn't enough. His legs carried him towards Lena, who was still talking.

"But if you never want to have anything to do with me again, then… that's okay too. And I'll… I'll get over it, I will. I just, I'm gonna miss you so mu-!" Lena was pulled into a tight embrace against Morrison's warm, muscular body.

"Why waste time when we have so little of it?" he said gently.

She didn't mind being pressed up against the sweat stain, because she could feel him coming back to her. Lena giggled under his vice-like hug, putting her arms around him as well, almost letting herself collapse in his arms.

Jack just smiled down at her, gently petting her soft hair. He felt Lena rub her forehead against his chest, just like she used to years ago. He couldn't help but pull her closer to him, even if her chronal accelerator dug into his abdomen. What mattered was he was doing what he wanted with his life; making her happy.

Lena looked up at him, smiling that wide, irresistible smile again. Tears threatened to leak from her eyes. Why couldn't she keep it together today?

"Now now," said Jack, "No need to get all mushy. I'm not dead yet. But listen. Our mission takes priority right now. If we do this, you and I again, it stays out of the battlefield, understood? We can't pick up where we left off, but we can start over. I… need to soften up a bit, alright?"

Lena nodded and backed off, clicking her heals and giving a salute.

"You got it!"

Her heart was beating in her chest faster than the rate of fire of her pulse pistols. She did it; she got Jack back. Lena did everything she could to contain herself. If he was willing to give it another go, she wasn't going to squander the opportunity. She almost felt happier than finding out he was still alive.

"Now," Jack said as he walked past her, "I am going to hit the showers, and you are going to do what ever you were going to do in here. If you follow me, I'm going to personally court martial you," he gave a smirk as he looked back at Lena.

She promptly returned the smirk, resting her hand on her hip.

"If that means what it used to, twenty years ago, I might just have to disobey that order, Strike Commander Morrison,"

Jack raised an eyebrow,

"You better not," he said, leaving the room.

Much to his surprise, she did, in fact, follow those orders.

XXXX

It took the better part of the night, but Alejandra finally managed to put the hand cannon together, and had to repeat the process ten times. Her opinion of Mr. Wilhelm had dropped slightly because of that task, but still very much enjoyed his stories and his jolly attitude. Nonetheless, she concluded that Brigitte was a much better teacher than him, and rather enjoyed her company. She was almost like an aunt to the new recruit. And Alejandra trusted her, which was the more important thing in her eyes.

After the weapons training, Brigitte and Reinhardt had to continue unloading supplies from the van, which gave Alejandra a chance to do some poking around. She remembered the conversation she had with Morrison back on the seaplane, and was determined to get more answers. Discretely, she made her way back to Winston's quarters, where his computer was still logged on. Not wasting anytime, she navigated her way through the Overwatch agent database. Hundreds of names appeared on screen, all categorized by nationality and last name. But no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't locate Reyes, Gabriel.

Then she noticed a different folder, hiding in the middle of a long list of subcategories. The file was labeled 'Blackwatch'. She clicked it. A different window popped up, with a new list of names, and at the top was exactly who she was looking for. She accessed Reyes' file and soaked up every bit of information she could: Date of birth, place of origin, military history, Overwatch history, the creation of Blackwatch, the classified war crimes, bank accounts, his supposed death in Switzerland, it was all here. But none of this mattered to her. What mattered was the smaller details, the little tidbits that you never saw unless you looked for them.

She didn't care about where he was from, but where he has been. She didn't care about how much money he had, but what he had done with it. Focusing on those points of data, Alejandra had what she needed, now all she had to do was connect the dots, see what made sense.

"A little late night browsing I see?" said the grumbling voice of Morrison from behind.

Alejandra gasped and spun in the seat, seeing him leaning against the wall behind her. Dressed in his uniform once again, he made his way over to her.

"Don't tell me I'm going to have to keep you from looking up eighteen years or older content. That kind of stuff doesn't build character," he joked.

Alejandra rolled her eyes and smiled, turning back to the monitor. That wasn't her kind of humor, but she let it slide this time.

"Here, take a look at this," she said.

Jack leaned over, looking at Reyes' data files that Alejandra had pulled up. First, they looked at where he had been.

"Look at this," she said, as she highlighted certain blocks of text, "It says here that in 2056, ten years after the start of the omnic crisis, and eight years after the creation of Overwatch, Gabriel Reyes was on a mission, in New Mexico, to eliminate the Deadlock Gang. No contact with him or other Blackwatch agents had been established until two months later, when he returned with a report of his mission, as well as new recruit: Jesse McCree,"

"Okay, yeah. That was his mission, what does that have to do with anything?" Jack said, clearly not seeing the connection.

Alejandra explained,

"Remember when I told you Mama was sent to Dorado by my father? She didn't used to live in Mexico. She grew up in New Mexico, working on a farm. And if she just happened to be in the same place Reyes was at the time, then they had to have met,"

"That's a pretty big if, kid," replied Jack, "but you can't base your theory just on that,"

At that point, Alejandra pulled up Reyes' back accounts. All transactions of his spending habits were listed here. For the most part, there was nothing majorly noticeable about the way Reyes used his money. Carrying a hefty sum of 70 million dollars in his savings, it looked like he was set for life. However, as they scrolled down, they noticed one huge discrepancy: half of his money was gone by 2053.

Jack leaned forward, brows narrowing towards each other.

"What the… ? What happened here?" he muttered.

Alejandra had only one theory floating in her head.

"Could it be possible that he transferred that money or withdrew it? If he did, he could have given it to my mother, so she could start a new life in Dorado,"

But that was still 35 Million dollars that Alexandria would have. Why use it on a simple restaurant? She could live wherever the hell she pleased. Morrison tried to think of other alternatives, other possibilities to this strange disappearance of money from Reyes' bank account.

"Can you find data on what he was spending his money on?" he asked, scanning the screen for an icon or file.

She scrolled up and down, trying to find anything that could help them, but nothing came up. She turned to Jack, shaking her head. That was when he spotted a different file, labeled 'CLASSIFIED'. He pointed to it, prompting Alejandra to click it. To their dismay, a window popped up, saying 'Password Protected'. Jack threw his head back and sighed.

Alejandra held her chin in her hand, glaring at their new found problem.

"I could… try to hack it," She suggested.

Morrison turned to look at her, his face full of both surprise and confusion.

"You know how to hack?"

She shrugged at the reply.

"When all you have to do at home is cook, clean, and read, you find time to learn a thing or two,"

Morrison honestly couldn't believe what he had just heard. The girl could hack? He would have to put those skills to the test later on.

"How about we just… wait for Winston to return. I'm sure he has the password. This is his computer after all," he suggested,

Alejandra folded her arms and pouted, looking disappointed with his decision. She wanted to learn more about Gabriel Reyes, even if he wasn't her father. But with the gathered evidence they had so far, and her limited, but still relevant, knowledge given by her late mother, it was the only lead she had.

"Hmph, fine," she grumbled.

But that was when she remembered she had a well of information right beside her: Jack. They were friends before, brothers in arms. Jack had to have known Reyes better than anyone.

"Let's just say, for the time being, that he is my father," she began, "What was he like?"

Jack looked into her eyes. They were full of longing, searching for a truth that he knew he couldn't provide the answers to. But if she wanted to know about the Reyes from the past, he could at least tell her that.

He looked down for a moment, pulling in what he thought were the more important memories of his former friend. It was painful for Jack to think about Gabriel. The memory of the Switzerland attack still stung like an old wound; it wouldn't go away.

"Gabriel was… one of the best soldiers I had ever fought along side with. We met while on a diplomatic mission in Moscow. I had already been a part of the soldier enhancement program by this point, and Reyes was already a decorated Chief Petty Officer with his own squadron,"

Alejandra listened intently, resting her cheek against her fist. She paid attention to every detail Morrison gave her.

"Russia needed some help identifying a new threat to the Moscow border, and the US was all too happy to oblige, as long as Russia's president promised to leave Ukraine alone, for the umpteenth time. The two squads, Reyes' and my own, linked up in the Khimki Forest, smack dab in the middle of winter. Reyes couldn't stop whining about the cold, saying it was nothing like Los Angeles,"

"At first, we didn't talk much, but Reyes was given command of the whole unit, due to his superior rank. Just looking at him, you could tell he was a leader, very by the book, but wasn't afraid to cut corners if he had to. We scouted that region for days, but found nothing but snow and trees and leaves. We all agreed it was time to head back to HQ, then we were ambushed,"

The scene played out vividly in Jack's mind, and he verbalized every detail to Alejandra.

"A hail of fifty caliber rounds hit us from all sides. No one saw it coming, the guns were well camouflaged in the trees and snow. The only ones quick enough to react were myself and Reyes, popping smoke grenades as soon as we realized we weren't dead. We both ran, finding cover behind a fallen spruce tree. The rest of the squad was too slow, and they were cut to pieces by the non stop stream of lead. All Reyes could do was curse himself. He should have been more careful and he knew it. But that didn't matter right now. What mattered was we had to stay alive and report back to head quarters. I snapped him out of it, reminding him of the mission,"

"The guns stopped firing at our squad, who were by now reduced to nothing but a bloody mess, and began to focus on us. Apparently they found out our little hiding spot. After what seemed like an hour of nonstop peppering, we noticed a pattern in their assault: They all fired in unison, and reloaded for two whole seconds. That meant we had a window. We waited for the next reload, and when it came, we split up, Gabriel taking the East flank, while I took the West. I couldn't believe what I saw next. Hiding in the snow wasn't a gun emplacement with an enemy soldier behind it, but a Bastion unit in sentry mode. Didn't have time to think, didn't care, I just opened fire until the thing crumbled in a scrap pile. First rule of combat: shoot first, then see who's still alive to ask questions later. I finished off the rest of the Bastions on my side, then scanned to see how Reyes was doing,"

"He fought like an animal, pouncing on his prey and giving it a point blank shot with his shot guns, blasting it till there was nothing left. We cleaned them up as best as we could, but one Bastion got away. They always make sure one survived, to report back to whoever sent them, as we would find out the hard way later. We regrouped and checked for survivors, but there was nothing recognizable to check. The whole team was dead, except us. We collected their dog tags, to at least bring something of them home. And just when we thought it couldn't get worse, a typhoon hit us,"

"We knew we couldn't get back to HQ in the storm, so we looked for shelter. We had to scare a bear out of its cave, I'm sure it found another cozy place to stay. Besides, we needed it more. For a week we were stranded out there, you get to know a guy after spending that long, alone together. From what I could see, he was a brutal soldier, and I told him he fought like a psychopath. And, heh, he told me, 'I'm not a psychopath, I'm a high functioning psychopath,',"

Alejandra couldn't help but giggle at the morbid humor again, even though she knew full well she shouldn't have. Maybe it ran in the family, finding humor in violence? Nevertheless, she was glad Jack was sharing so much information with her, learning more about her possible father's past.

"After the typhoon cleared, we made our way back to headquarters. We thought we were in the clear, but those damn omnics had another nasty surprise waiting for us in the snow. I felt a chunk of my side get ripped off by a stray round from the Bastions' fifty cal. Reyes reacted quicker than me, and pulled me aside behind a boulder. I couldn't move, I was practically useless with this hole in me. The Bastions peppered the rock that we hid behind. Gabe guessed there were only two this time. He could handle it. He just needed to wait for the window. He tightened his jacket around my wound, doing what he could to stop the bleeding. I had never been so light headed in my life. Reyes could tell I was slipping into unconsciousness but forced me to wake up. Then, he looked me in the eye and said, 'If you die, I'm gonna follow you into Hell and kill you myself, so don't do it! I'll be right back, Jackie,',"

"I must have passed out by that point, because when I woke up, Reyes was carrying me on his back. Guess he won that fight, no doubt ripping the Bastions to shreds. We gave our report to HQ, telling them about the Bastion units that attacked us. The Omnic Crisis had begun. After that, he and I were inseparable. Every mission that one of us was assigned to, the other joined in. A year later, the UN came up with Overwatch, and they wanted Reyes to lead. I couldn't have been more proud of him. He deserved that role more than anyone I knew. He saved my ass more times than I could count, and I always returned the favor by saving his. Gabriel was a real brother in arms, and I was proud to fight by his side,"

"But then… Out of nowhere, the UN decided it was time for a change of leadership, and gave me the rank of Strike Commander. I never understood why; Gabe was more than capable of keeping the position, but it was either take the promotion or leave Overwatch. After that…," Morrison blinked, remembering the falling out he had with his companion.

For some reason, he couldn't keep talking about it. A lump formed in his throat, the kind that almost stops you from breathing. He just continued everything in his head, the heated arguments, the insults, the anger. Then… Switzerland.

Alejandra saw the distress in Jack's eyes. She heard enough, she didn't need him to keep going. She put her hand over his, snapping him out of his memories. The two looked at each other, just talking through their eyes. Jack could feel her sympathy, telling him to stop thinking about it. The pain seemed to wash away slowly, as if she just willed it out of him. Morrison smiled, thanking Alejandra silently.

But the moment of peace was interrupted by a red flashing on Winston's computer. Alejandra gave a startled scream and held her hands up.

"I didn't touch anything, I swear! I'm innocent! My hands are clean!" she exclaimed.

Morrison saw the alert on the screen, flashing the words 'DISTRESS CALL: ANGELA ZIEGLER'.

XXXX

Amélie, more commonly known as Widowmaker now, broke off one half of the arrow currently lodged in her ankle, and pulled out the other, a screaming pain shooting through her foot, up her leg. She gritted her teeth; damn that archer and his trick-shot arrows. She'd be sure to repay him later.

Reaper had carried Widowmaker to their talon dropship, cloaked in plain sight in front of Lijiang Tower, and were en route to their destination. Setting the auto pilot for their desired coordinates, Reaper grabbed the med kit to tend to his partner's wound.

He cleaned the injury and wrapped a gauze around it, knowing full well they would have to do more later on. Widowmaker was curious to this strange behavior; he normally just let her fix herself, but this time, he actually helped her, almost like he cared or something.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Hmph, not even a thank you. No wonder you're single," replied Reaper as he stood up and returned to the cockpit.

Amélie frowned and followed the hooded mercenary, with a slight limp in her step. It's not that she wasn't grateful, she was just confused. But she decided to not dwell on it. Emotion wasn't her strong suit. She looked at the monitors on the dashboard and noticed something odd. The autopilot was not taking them to HQ, it was taking them to Numbani.

"Quoi? Why are we going there? Did the Chairman give us new orders?"

Reaper replied, "We don't take orders from the Chairman anymore,"

Widowmaker tilted her head, clearly confused by the situation.

"Je n'étais pas informé,"

"Neither was I, until now," he said, plainly, in his slow, raspy voice.

They didn't speak for the remainder of the voyage. The moon glowed brightly in the night sky, no clouds available to deter its radiance. But the two Talon agents did not admire the view as they entered Numbani airspace. They were too focused on the predicament at hand.

The dropship's autopilot brought them to the outskirts of the city, where it hovered over the courtyard of some kind of long abandoned building. The area was littered with graffiti and construction equipment and common trash. The two surveyed the area as their aircraft hovered in place. Amélie scoffed.

"This is where our mystery boss has taken us? I must say, it isn't the most discrete rendezvous I've -"

"Quiet. Look," Reaper cut her off.

The ground below them began to split in two, revealing to be two massive sliding doors, and a large dark chasm behind them. Slowly the doors lurched open, gravel and cans falling into the abyss. The two agents looked at each other and shrugged.

Turning off the autopilot, Reaper took control, descending the dropship into the chasm below them. Upon entering, the doors slowly closed, cutting off all light from the outside. Something told them that there was no turning back now. Reaper set them down on a landing platform at the bottom of the chasm, and the two exited the aircraft.

Widowmaker and Reaper swore they had just entered the Bat cave. Massive waterfalls entered the chasm they had just descended into, the water pouring into a reservoir right below the landing platform, creating a makeshift moat. Small spotlights were the only source of illumination in this cave, with one long stretch of road, acting as a bridge, leading to another room ahead. The cave itself was comprised of a dark granite, which glistened from the combination of stray water and the spotlights.

The two talon agents walked down the only path they had, their footsteps echoing throughout the cave. They entered the room, Reaper allowing Amélie to walk in first. When she stepped in, she saw the reason for the change of command.

At the far end of the room, there was a spear, the handle expertly crafted with African tribal carvings etched into it. It stood erect in the ground, almost looking peaceful, if it weren't for what was impaled on the top. The head of their former employer, the Chairman of Talon, was adorning the tip of the spear, his mouth agape and his eyes wide and lifeless. Reaper and Widowmaker approached what was left of their late leader, not entirely sure what to make of what they saw.

"Merde, who could have done thi-?"

"Um, behind you," Reaper replied, pointing past her.

Amélie turned and saw what he was referring to. A massive figure was making its way from the shadows. His foot falls echoed like boulders falling from mountain tops, and his wide, muscular frame only added to his tall demeanor. The stranger finally stepped into the light, revealing himself. Clearly of African decent, he was solid muscle from his chest to his calves, and was easily seven feet in height. His shoulder length dreadlocks were pulled back into six individual ponytails that draped over his back. A long scar ran down one side of his face, from the top of his forehead down to his bottom jaw. Another set of scars, what appeared to be claw marks (two sets of three), littered his right forearm. This man had seen more than his fair share of battles, and the Talon agents could see that.

He eyed the two before him, amused that they had to look up to him, just like everyone did when they saw him.

"Welcome," his voice was deep, and boomed through the caverns of the cave, "I'm glad to see you got my invitation,"

The stranger took a few steps towards Widowmaker, and held her chin between his large finger and thumb, inspecting her. He gave a smirk and a raised eyebrow at the assassin, who stared blankly back at him, not particularly caring for his actions. He pulled away as Reaper stepped forward.

"How about you explain what the hell is going on. You killed our boss and led us here. Who are you?"

The stranger stood tall and proud, prepared to explain his actions.

"You may know my family heritage by a certain name. My grandfather was known as The Savior, my father; The Scourge. I am now known as, The Successor," he gave a wide grin at the mention of his own title.

"Doomfist," Widowmaker said, sounding both disinterested and intimidated; Reaper couldn't tell how that was possible, but she managed to pull it off.

"Correct," Doomfist replied, "Though, without my family heirloom, it is not a title befitting of me at the moment. I come with a proposition," he said, walking past the two of them, "Work with me to crush all that Overwatch has accomplished, and in return, I will give you both what you desire most,"

Amélie and Reaper exchanged glances; as if they had a choice? They both knew if they tried to escape, this seven foot wall of muscle would snap them in two.

"What's the catch?" replied Reaper.

Even if they didn't have any other options, he still wanted to know what they were getting themselves into.

"There is no catch," said Doomfist, "My plans are not that much different from Talon. We both want to continue the Omnic Crisis. However, your petty Chairman was not thinking large enough," he patted the decapitated head of his victim, still impaled on the spear, "Look around you! Talon may have created little skirmishes around the globe, killing a peacekeeper here, eradicating Omnic civilians there, but they failed to see the big picture!" He removed the head from the spear and tossed it into the moat below, creating a satisfying plop as it hit the water.

Doomfist turned to face the two once again, eyes wide with dangerous enthusiasm.

"My vision is much, much larger. Humans and Omnics, trying to live together, in peace? Some have even begun to form… relations with one another. How pitiful. Mankind will always be the masters of machine. And when mankind has conquered the machines, the three of us will be above them all, ruling with iron fists," He clenched his fist in front of them, providing a powerful emphasis.

Reaper and Amélie were honestly still confused with the whole situation. They were listening to a seven foot tall, African man, who just decapitated the leader of Talon, talk about his plans for world domination. Of course, the whole idea of conquering the world seemed far-fetched, but he had them at giving them what they desired most.

Intrigued to see what Doomfist had in store, Amélie spoke up.

"And where do we begin, taking over the entire Omnic race?" she asked.

Doomfist gave a smirk that sent a chill down even Widowmaker's unfeeling spine.

"Have either of you ever heard of, The Iris?"

XXXX

Holy magikarp this Chapter took forever! But I enjoyed every late night with it haha! So yeah, This is my interpretation of the Successor Doomfist. Just to give you an idea of what he sounds like, just think of the Arbiter from Halo/Keith David.

ALSO, sorry, sorry, I'm sorry, sorry, for all the JackxLena fluff. I think I got carried away. I hope it isn't too cringy for you all.

This is probably the longest chapter to date, 26 pages! I need to calm down.

Thank you all again for your wonderful support with the comments! Don't forget to leave some more! I live for them. In the meantime, you all stay beautiful! I've got another chapter to write!


	8. Chapter 7

Hey there beautiful peoples! Just wanna say sorry for the delay on the chapter. I've got other things to worry about lols. Buuut I also wanted to take time to really plan out this chapter, so that's another reason why this one took a while to get together. I know the last chapter was kind of a filler chapter, with only some good plot elements, but it happens. I hope y'all didn't mind it too much. Hope this chapter is more appealing!

XXXX

"Walk me through it, Ange," said Jack, as he sprinted his way to the medical bay, transferring the doctor's transmission from Winston's computer to his comlink.

Alejandra did her best to keep up with the old soldier, though, of course, trailing far behind.

Angela reported what had transpired during their mission, and informed Jack that she needed the medi-bay up and running. Hanzo took the majority of the grenade blast into his back, and needed surgery as soon as possible. Angela could keep him stabilized as long as the healing stream from her caduceus was linked with him, but they would need the medi-bay to remove the shrapnel and heal his wounds more thoroughly.

He reached the med lab just as Angela began to tell him what she needed.

"Prepare my plasma scalpel, the micro- electromagnetic prod, and the regeneration bed. Set it to 'tissue' and 'membranes'," she instructed.

Morrison did as he was told, locating the tools and prepping the bed to the desired setting.

"Got it, anything else?" he asked, wanting to do as much as he could.

He already knew the answer to that question, though. If there was anything else, Angela would have told him right away.

"Nein," replied the doctor, "There is nothing else to be done until we return to Gibraltar. It will be approximately twelve hours before we arrive. We'll be back by twenty two hundred hours,"

If only there was a faster way to get them back, Morrison thought to himself. He hated when matters were taken out of his hands, especially when it involved the safety of his team. All he could do was wait for them to return, safely.

"Alright. See you then," he said, "Also, did you retrieve Mei's body?"

There was a slight pause before Angela replied.

"Yes, we did,"

He could hear the anguish in her voice, despite her efforts to sound serene. Jack knew Angela was a strong woman, probably one of the strongest he ever had the privilege to work along side with. But he knew the loss of Mei was weighing heavily on her, and she was doing everything she could to stay in the game.

"Alright, good work, Ange. Get here safely. Morrison out,"

The feed cut. Morrison rubbed his forehead with one hand, frustration swimming in his head. He knew that Genji's brother would be fine under Angela's care, but he still felt the weight that fell onto any commander's shoulders when men under his charge were injured. But at least they didn't lose another, like they did with Mei.

The memory of that gruesome moment almost made its way into Jack's head, but Alejandra tugged on his sleeve, snapping him out of it. He turned to the new recruit, who looked up at him, smiling and with eyes full of kindness and understanding. What was it about this girl that put his mind at ease? He couldn't put his finger at it. It almost hurt him to know he was going to train her to be a soldier, like him.

"How about we go check on everyone else?" Alejandra suggested.

The corner of Jack's mouth tilted up, agreeing with the idea.

"Sure," he said, "Let's go,"

XXXX

The heat emanating from Brigitte's forge engulfed her with every drop of her hammer. Sparks flew as she brought her tool down upon Reinhardt's armor, welding and sealing the cracks it had sustained from previous battles. Thank goodness the base had extra scrap metal lying around, or this job would have been ten times more difficult. She melted down the extra metal and used it to perfectly mend the cracks. The armor looked good as new.

Brigitte stepped away from her work and removed her welding helmet, wiping the sweat from her brow with her forearm. Setting her equipment down, she grabbed her canteen and took a quick swig from it, savoring the icy cold water that poured down her throat. She could hear footsteps from behind, but didn't think much of it until she heard the voice that they belonged to.

"Brigitte," said the grizzly voice of Jack Morrison.

She turned to see the commander and Alejandra walking up to her, the latter smiling brightly at her. Brigitte returned the smile to both of them.

"Oh, hello Commander Morrison. Hi sweetie," she replied, standing to greet them.

Jack took a few steps around the forge, inspecting Brigitte's work. He was very impressed with her knowledge of blacksmithing, and how such an ancient craft could be used to repair a complex piece of machinery like Reinhardt's armor. He'd have to learn a thing or two from Brigitte later on.

"How goes the repairs on Crusader?" he asked, making his way around the massive armor pieces.

Brigitte was quick to respond, putting her hands on her hips.

"Our own knight in shining armor will be battle ready by tomorrow morning. I just need to weld a few more cracks and buff a few dents and Crusader will be back online,"

Morrison smiled, admiring her dedication to her task. He knew Brigitte wouldn't stop until this suit was combat ready. But he also knew she had been working ever since she got here. Between moving supplies and repairing Crusader, if anyone deserved some R&R, it was her.

"How 'bout you take a break, Brige. Looks like you need it," he suggested, not wanting her to overwork herself.

Brigitte just waved it off, wanting to hear none of it.

"The longer I take to get this job done, the longer it will take for Reinhardt to do his. He won't be able to defend you without this armor," she replied, already getting her equipment back on.

"Aha! Nonsense, Brigitte!" exclaimed the knight himself, marching his way towards everyone.

He held two items in his hands, but the group could not decipher what they were, exactly. Reinhardt continued.

"I would be everyone's shield, even without Crusader! Remember, it is the soldier who makes the armor, not the armor that makes the soldier!" he said, proudly.

Brigitte raised an eyebrow, looking up at her friend with a slight hint of annoyance, though still managing a smile.

"Well, right now, it is the soldier's faithful assistant making the armor; you're welcome," she coughed the last two words.

"Ah, details, details," replied Reinhardt, "But I do agree with the commander; you do deserve a break, even if it is a scant one. Here! I found your favorite!"

Reinhardt tossed one of the items to Brigitte, who caught it swiftly out of the air. In her hand was a king size chocolate bar. She stared at it, feeling a mix of temptation and contempt for the snack she held.

"Reinhardt… I'm trying to lose weight. Why would you hand me this?!"

"Brigitte," Reinhardt replied, "you have the body of an Amazon goddess. Live a little!"

Brigitte scowled, but promptly unwrapped the treat, biting off a peace.

"… Danke," she muttered under her breath.

Reinhardt smiled, pleased that his partner gave in to his reasoning. He wouldn't want Brigitte to burn herself out. He truly did appreciate her help and admitted that he probably wouldn't be where he was today, if it weren't for her constantly repairing his armor.

His attention was then diverted to the other item in his hand, a large can.

"Aha! And look what else I found!" Reinhardt exclaimed, proudly presenting the can to his comrades.

Everyone gave an inquisitive look at the cylinder, but it was Brigitte who realized what exactly Reinhardt held.

"Is that-?"

"Canned curry wurst! I remember why I liked this place so much!" Reinhardt laughed with joy, holding the can up to the sky like a well earned trophy, "Let us feast, celebrating the recreation of Overwatch!"

Morrison wanted to share Reinhardt's enthusiasm, but he also felt that the veteran's emotions were out of place. They watched Mei die today. This was no time for a celebration.

"How about we hold off on the festivities until after we send Mei off?" Jack said, gently, not wanting to disrupt the mood too much.

The prideful smile left Reinhardt's face, as he slowly lowered the can of curry wurst. The commander did have a point. To celebrate now would seem almost disrespectful to their fallen friend. Reinhardt could feel a little guilt crawling inside his chest. He averted his eyes for a moment, contemplating a different alternative.

"Then we shall honor her memory by celebrating her life!" he began, "That is what she would want. She wouldn't want us to mourn her death, but remember her as she lived,"

Jack gave a soft smile, agreeing with Reinhardt's suggestion. He was right. Mei was always the optimist of the group, trying to get everyone to see the brighter side of a bad situation. However, in Morrison's opinion, there really wasn't a brighter side to Mei's death; but he'd still go along with what Reinhardt had proposed.

It was then that Jack heard a soft yawn next to him. He looked down to his left to see Alejandra, rubbing her eyes, leaning against his arm. Fatigue clearly plagued the poor girl, Morrison could tell. He couldn't help but chuckle at her sleep deprivation, as she leaned her head against his side.

"You tired kid?" he asked.

Alejandra shook her head, trying to stifle another yawn. She tried desperately to fight off her sleep.

"No, I'm… I'm fine. Just… a little headache," she mumbled, unwittingly laying all her weight against Jack's arm.

Brigitte and Reinhardt couldn't hold back their chuckles either, watching the new recruit hold off the inevitable. Morrison rolled his eyes and decided it was time for her to surrender. He lifted Alejandra off her feet and cradled her in his arms.

"Alright soldier, it's time to retreat," he said as he left the others to their work.

Alejandra tried to swat at Morrison's face as a response, but missed by a foot, too tired to open her eyes to see. Jack just shook his head, smiling at her rebellious nature, and made his way to the barracks to find her her own quarters.

XXXX

He set Alejandra gently down in the bed, pulling the covers up to her neck. The quarters that Jack found for her formally belonged to Ana Amari; God help her where ever she is now. Cleared out years ago, it was a bare room, save the bed and covers and a coffee table in the center. It used to be filled with various keep sakes of Ana, from better days. Pictures of her and her daughter, Fareeha, and the team, used to line the shelves, inside picture frames that Ana crafted herself. Drawings that Fareeha had made for her used to hang on the walls, as well. There were so many drawings that they would cover the various medals honor that Ana had earned, that also adorned the walls.

It felt strange using her room like this, but he was certain that Ana wouldn't have minded letting Alejandra stay in it for a while. He thought back on that day, when they lost her. He remembered when she disobeyed his orders to fall back with them, when she turned off her comlink, the cold, unforgiving static filling his ears. He never saw or heard from her again. But some how, he knew she was still out there. That woman wasn't as easy to kill as she looked.

His thoughts were cut short, noticing Lena walking up next to him. She stood by his side, smiling softly down at the sleeping Alejandra, clearly well beyond passed out.

"Never knew you wanted a kid," she whispered to Jack, who gave a small smirk in return.

Lena's humor was exactly what he needed right now. Between the death of Mei, Hanzo's injury, rebuilding Overwatch, and practically adopting a thirteen year old girl, Jack had never felt more emotionally unbalanced in his life. But, leave it to Lena to put him at ease with her presence.

"It was her birthday today," he whispered back, just wanting to engage in small talk at the moment.

"What?" Lena replied, a touch of sadness in her voice, "and we didn't celebrate..."

Morrison shrugged.

"Given what happened today, I doubt shewould've wanted to, anyway," he said.

The words hung in the air for a moment, stinging like acid. They still felt the death of Mei lurking over them like a constant shadow. Perhaps, when they finally laid her to rest, their minds would be at ease.

"Maybe next year," Jack said, turning from the bed.

Jack and Lena left Alejandra's room, closing the lights and went to check on everyone else.

XXXX

"So, let me get this straight," Reaper began, having just listened to Doomfist's entire plan, "You're saying that, the deity that the Omnics believe in, the Iris, is really a satellite orbiting the Earth, with which all Omnics share some kind of hive mind with?"

Doomfist nodded, arms folded across his massive chest.

"And you plan to use it to take control over every single Omnic, then use them to initiate the second Omnic Crisis, and when the UN is at their knees, you tell them you will throw the kill switch if they surrender to you, basically making you the supreme overlord of this world," Reaper finished.

Doomfist shrugged, having just heard his plan regurgitated to him.

"More or less. But, I will not rule alone. You two will be by my side, as my lieutenants, as we forge a better world," he replied, out stretching his arms, as if trying to look welcoming to them.

Widowmaker, however, was not sold on the idea. There were elements to this that made no sense.

"Attendez," she began, making her way towards Doomfist, who only kept a smiling gaze upon the assassin, "how is it you know of this device, while even the Omnics do not know its location?"

"Because I was there when it was launched," Doomfist replied, clasping his hands behind his back.

Amélie tilted her head, prompting him to continue with his explaination.

"It was before the first Omnic Crisis had begun. My father, the Doomfist before me, had seen the steady progression of the Omnics as they became self aware. Realizing that there would soon be retaliation against their human masters, my father struck a deal with the Omnics. War is business after all. He would sell weapons to high priority gangs and criminals, provoking infighting amongst the humans on one front, while the United Nations fought the mechanical menace on the other, causing them to be split between their own civil war and the Omnic Crisis. From the Deadlock Gang to the Shimada Clan; you name them, my father sold to them. For a long time, everything was as my father had planned, but everything changed when the UN created Overwatch,"

Doomfist's blood began to boil at the mention of the group of heroes, clenching his fists till his dark knuckles almost burned white. Reaper and Amélie noticed the rage in his eyes. She knew that, if she could still feel emotion, she'd probably shit herself right there. Doomfist continued.

"They tore apart everything my father had built; from picking apart the rival gangs which he sold weapons to, to stopping the Omnic Crisis dead in its tracks. And then, just when I thought nothing else could possibly go wrong, I watched that freak of nature monkey murder him right in front of me,"

Slowly, the Doomfist composed himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His rage slowly flowed out of him, leaving him in a sudden state of serenity.

"I plan to repay them for what they did, all those years ago. But I cannot do so without your help,"

"You didn't answer the question," Reaper said, bluntly, "How do you know about the Iris, when literally no one else does?"

"Ah yes, of course. Forgive me," Doomfist replied with a slight bow, "During one of my father's... business transactions with the Omnics, I found him tampering with some mechanical object, in the shape of an eye: The Iris. I inquired him of his intentions, and he simply told me, 'When the time comes, you'll know what to do, my son,'. And after all these years, I finally found the meaning behind those words. My father planted a virus, which blocked all electronic signatures emanating from it, so that its creators could not use it. However, the virus also sent a small frequency, one that my father knew only I would locate. And I did,"

The pieces slowly began to form in Reaper's and Widowmaker's heads, seeing where the story was going. They continued to listen to their new employer.

"Now, I will use the seed that my father had sown, and rebuild this world, for our benefit," He finished, giving a small smile as he looked down at the two Talon agents.

Reaper, however, remained unconvinced. He didn't trust this guy as far as he could throw him (and judging by the height and muscle mass, Reaper couldn't even push him).

"Hold on," stepping forward, Reaper began to question the seven foot tall wall of muscle in front of him, "How can we be so sure you'll hold up your end of the bargain? You could just as easily turn this whole thing around and ax us off in the end,"

Reaper glared at Doomfist through his mask, folding his arms across his chest. How could he trust a man he just met, who killed his boss, and expected them to work for him, just because he said he'd give them anything they wanted? What could he possibly have that they would want? Reaper didn't believe him for a second.

The interrogation made Doomfist chuckle, something that sent chills down Reaper's decaying spine. The large man stepped closer to black cloaked agent.

"Reaper, Reaper… Or should I say, 'Gabriel Reyes,'?".

Reyes felt his decaying and regenerating heart skip a beat. How did this guy know his name? Even Amélie was taken aback, furrowing her brows and taking a step forward. Reyes clenched his fists tightly, puncturing the material of his gloves.

"How do you know that name?" he growled, looking up at Doomfist.

"Oh, I know everything about you," Doomfist replied, and after taking a quick glance at Widowmaker, "Both of you," He walked towards the French assassin, "Amélie Lacroix. You were kidnapped by Talon, exposed to horrible experiments; tortured beyond imagination, and molded into a cold blooded killer, leaving none of your humanity left in you,"

Widowmaker just stared blankly back up at Doomfist, showing no emotion to what she was hearing. She knew full well that they had done to her, she just didn't care. She could hear the story told over and over again, it wouldn't matter. Doomfist continued.

"Even though you can't feel it, I'm sure that you would want nothing more than to feel again," he smirked, holding her chin in his hand.

Amélie just kept staring, making him believe she was unmoved. But deep down, something stirred in her. Maybe he was right? Doomfist released her chin and turned to face the cloaked mercenary, who just stood there, arms folded across his chest.

"And you, Reyes. You betrayed Overwatch, were responsible for the destruction of the base in Switzerland, and, in the process, mutilated your own body as a consequence. Doctor Angela Ziegler found you, repaired you as best as she could, out of the goodness of her own heart. But the procedure turned you into something else, something less than a man; a ghost. Talon saw an opportunity in you, and did what they could to stabilize your form. However, your body is in a constant limbo of healing and decaying, which is probably worse than just being a ghost, isn't it?" he finished with a wide grin, obviously trying to poke the wrong buttons on Reyes.

Reaper gave a low growl, glaring up at Doomfist through his skull like mask. How the hell did this bastard know all this? Not even the United Nations suspected Reyes of being the loose end within Overwatch. How was it that this man, who doesn't have any other connections to Overwatch, other than a personal vendetta, know so much about them?

It was then the man before Reyes knelt in front of him, determined eyes looking right into the dark holes of Reaper's mask. Reyes didn't believe he himself had a soul, but if he did, Doomfist would be looking right into it.

"What if I told you I could give you your body back?" he said to Reyes, his dark, brown eyes homing in on the mercenary's face.

The words seemed to echo throughout Reaper's head. He didn't move and didn't speak, but just stared right back at the man kneeling before him. Hearing those words almost gave Reyes a feeling he hadn't had in a long time: hope.

Doomfist could see he had hit home with that statement. Good. It was just another way of getting his pawns in position. He stood up and turned towards Amélie and spoke.

"And what if I told you I could give you back your humanity, and make you feel again?"

For a moment, she kept her cold stare fixated on him, unblinking, unmoving. But something in her stirred, something new. Some kind of longing that she hadn't felt in years. She looked away, keeping the same expression, however. She didn't want to admit it, but the simple turning of the head pretty much already did.

Doomfist smiled. He hit the right buttons and he knew it.

"Like I said; I can give you both what you desire most, even if you, yourselves, don't even know what you want. Help me achieve my goal, and the three of us will be looked upon as gods!"

"But how?" Reyes objected, "How can you fix me, when both Ziegler and Talon couldn't do a damn thing?"

"I have my resources," Doomfist swiftly replied, "Help me, and I will help you," the charismatic tone in his voice never ceased. It was almost like talking to a very persuasive lawyer.

Reaper took a moment to process everything. He was torn between believing this guy, or saying to hell with it. He could do things he had never imagined in his current state; regenerate, turn into mist, avoid lethal blows, kill with violent and deadly precision. It was any soldier's dream. But then again, he loathed the constant decaying of his body, feeling pieces of him fall off every second. Sure it would regrow in an instant, but the feeling of dying and being born again almost became too much for him to bear.

He looked at his hands, wondering if he could truly be whole again. Could this man, whom he has never met, really be the key to a cure?

"… When do we begin?" he asked, looking back up at Doomfist.

Their new leader strode over to a long row of computers and monitors at the opposite end of the room, massive hands clasped behind his back.

"Reyes, my friend. If history has ever taught us anything, it is that wars are won with the simple throw of a switch,"

As if narrating his own actions, Doomfist threw one of the switches on the dashboard in front of him, bringing every monitor in the room to life, series of binary code scrolling up and down each of them. But something told the two Talon agents that what just happened triggered something even more tremendous, something that they had no control over.

"Qu'est-ce que tu as fait?" asked Widowmaker, halfheartedly.

Doomfist replied with a low, deathly chuckle, not bothering to turn to face the other two in the room.

"I've just activated the virus my father planted. As we speak, the Iris is currently processing every single Omnic mind on the face of the planet. And when it is finished, we will have complete control over all Omnics, new and old,"

"And how long is that gonna take, like an hour or two?" Reyes asked, standing next to his partner, clasping his hands behind his cloaked head.

Doomfist turned about-face, raising an eyebrow to the hooded mercenary, with a _really?_ expression.

"Do you know how many Omnics there are in this world?" Doomfist asked, assertively.

Reaper just gave a casual shrug, not bothering to guess.

"Three quarters of the human population," Doomfist continued, "That's five billion, two hundred fifty million processors that the Iris has to go through. Even if that number were cut in half, it would still take the good part of a year. So, to answer your question, I estimate two years' time before this is complete,"

"And what would you have us do during that time?" Amélie asked, placing a hand on her hip, looking slightly annoyed by the long time gap they had to wait through.

Doomfist was quick to respond, "Keep the UN and Overwatch off our backs. Send them on wild goose chases. The less they know about our operation, the better. Cause chaos around the world; that's what Talon is best at anyway, isn't it? Oh, and also, when you have the time..." he raised his right hand rotated his wrist slowly, as if examining it, then clenched his fist tightly, "retrieve my family heirloom, when you can,"

Reyes couldn't help but feel there was a lot of uneven distribution in the work load here. Sure, this guy was going to provide him with a cure to his curse, but were they supposed to do everything out there while Doomfist sat on his ass in here?

"And what are you going to do?" he asked, accusingly, "stay in here and do jack while we do all the heavy lifting?"

Their new boss laughed heartily at the remark, apparently not taking any offense from it. It set Reyes on edge. There was something clearly off about this guy, he could feel it.

"No," Doomfist finally said, "There are still many strings to be pulled here in Numbani; strings that only can I pull. And I assure you, everything will be ready, the stage will be set. And we shall be the kings and queen of the chess board,"

"Then as the queen," Amélie said, stepping forward, "may I suggest the first move?"

Doomfist smiled and graciously gave a _go ahead_ gesture with a sweep of his arm. Widowmaker nodded and continued.

"We have recently dispatched one of Overwatch's most… valued members. Taking their foolish sympathy as a factor, we knew they would move to retrieve the body. But, I doubt that they would be thorough enough to check for a tracking device planted within the decapitated corpse of their fallen comrade," she finished her sentence with a smirk, making Doomfist's skin crawl; and he loved it.

He gave an approving smile to the both of them, understanding what Amélie was implying. They've probably been tracking Overwatch ever since the two of them made their way to him.

"Go then, send Overwatch from their nest. Make them know that they will never be safe as long as they live. Leave whatever rock they've crawled under in ruins. Assemble what ever troops you can, and when that is done, report to your former superiors who is in charge now,"

He slowly made his way to his new comrades, placing one hand each on their shoulders. He stared both of them in the eyes, making sure they saw him. They looked into the brown eyes, which lookedover them, intently.

"I'm a man of my word," he said, his charismatic tone changing to complete sympathy, almost like he was a different man, "I will get back what you two have lost. Now, go,"

Then he turned, heading back to the monitors at the opposite end of the room, focused on his typing. The two Talon agents gave each other a glance, slightly confused by the sudden change of personality from their new boss, and shrugged.

They made their way back to their stealth aircraft, Reyes firing up the engines, causing the ship to ascend the long vertical tunnel. The double doors above them slowly lurched open, revealing a bright moon overhead.

Reaper punched a few buttons on the dashboard, bringing up two screens; one with a topographical map of the Mediterranean Sea, a small red dot flashing on it, and another with an unmasked Talon agent at his desk.

"Gunnery Sargent," Reyes called out, getting the Talon's attention.

"Commander Reaper, sir!" replied the soldier, giving a brisk salute.

"You and your battalion are still stationed within the Mediterranean, yes?"

"Affirmative sir. Been awaiting orders,"

"Prepare for a full scale invasion," Reaper commanded, "It's time to start another war,"

"Yes, Commander," replied the gunnery Sargent, before Reyes cut the video feed.

Setting their coordinates to rendezvous with the battalion, Reaper let out a low, sickening chuckle as he glanced at the flashing red blip on the map; blinking right on the Rock of Gibraltar.

XXXX

Genji Shimada sat on the small bench in front of the Medi lab where Angela was currently healing Hanzo's injuries.

Winston's dropship had arrived at Gibraltar around the time Angela had predicted, allowing her to treat Genji's brother as soon as possible.

Hunched forward, his arms resting on his knees, the cybernetic ninja was stressing over something. Something about the retrieval of Mei's body didn't feel right. The circumstances seemed almost eerily familiar. He had to check the body, to see if what he feared was reality or superstition.

The hissing sound of the Medi lab's doors sliding open distracted Genji, revealing the good Doctor as she walked briskly from the room. Seeing her approach him, Genji stood up from his seat, bowing respectively.

"Doctor Ziegler," he said, keeping his bowing posture until she kindly returned the bow.

"No need to worry, Genji, your brother will be fine within a few hours. I've just removed all the shrapnel from his body. The regen' bed will handle the rest,"

"It is not just the well-being of my brother I am concerned for, Doctor, but of everyone within this base," he replied, gravely.

Angela couldn't help but tilt her head in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Doctor, I need to have access to Mei's body,"

Without wasting any time, Angela led Genji to the room where they were keeping their deceased friend. Unlocking the door, the both of them went inside. There was an operating table at the far end of the room, where Mei was lying, covered by a long cloth.

Grimly, Genji approached the body, and slowly removed the drape from the upper torso, revealing the grizzly sight of the headless neck. Genji knew he couldn't physically throw up in his mouth, but if he could, he'd try to force it back down his throat.

Speaking of throats, he dreaded what he was about to do to his friend's dead body, but it was the only way to find out if his suspicions were correct.

"I pray that I am wrong," he muttered under his breath.

Angela watched inquisitively, still confused of what was putting Genji on edge. Then, without warning, the ninja plunged his mechanical hand into Mei's open neck, a squelching sound emanating from metal entering flesh.

"Genji! What are you doing?!" exclaimed Angela, rushing over to his side as he finessed his hand within the throat.

He finally felt what he was reaching for and gripped it between his finger and thumb. A sinking feeling overcame him, realizing he should have seen this sooner. Genji held onto what he had found, and wrenched his hand from Mei's neck, rotten flesh and blood dripping from his appendage. He turned to face Angela, who stared at him in disbelief.

She didn't realize what Genji was holding until he held it up to her, making her understand the meaning of his actions. In his hand was a small metal pod, with a flashing light on the end. She didn't want to believe what she was seeing, but knew exactly what Genji was showing her.

"Genji… what is that…?" it was a rhetorical question.

"You know as well as I what this is, Doctor," Genji replied, solemnly.

Getting herself back together, Angela needed more answers from him.

"What made you think there was a homing beacon in her!?"

"It is… an old Shimada tactic, utilized by my father, and his father before him," Genji began, "we would decapitate the loved ones of our enemies, and plant tracking devices within their bodies. When someone came to retrieve them, we would follow them to finish the job," Genji hung his head in what appeared to be shame, for the sins of his family's past.

"It appears that our enemies have employed the same tactic," he finished.

"But that doesn't explain why you didn't see this sooner. You had twelve hours to realize what was going on before we returned here! Why didn't you say something before?" Angela said, accusingly.

While she was normally patient and lenient with Genji, always trusting his judgment, she was absolutely livid with him now. If this was something he had seen before, why wouldn't he have prevented it now?

"It didn't cross my mind! I was worried for Hanzo! Not to mention I didn't believe Talon would stoop to that kind of level of dishonor,"

"Genji, they're terrorists! They don't- ugh, never mind. This will get us nowhere. We need to tell Jack, now,"

XXXX

"You've got to be kidding me!" screamed Morrison, as he threw his fist out, creating a deep crater in the wall behind him.

Angela had gathered Jack, Reinhardt, and Winston into the conference room on the North western wing of Watchpoint: Gibraltar. She and Genji had just finished explaining their situation, much to the dismay of everyone present.

"I'm sorry, Jack, but I'm not. We need to prepare to defend ourselves," Angela replied.

"Even with Torbjorn's defensive turrets, we don't have enough firepower to save the base," Morrison said, holding his forehead between his finger and thumb, "We'll have to evacuate,"

"Evacuate?" said Angela, "But we just got here!"

"And now we have to leave!" Morrison replied, "Talon will be throwing what ever they've got at us, and we don't have the resources to fend off an invasion. We have no choice, Ange,"

As much as she'd hate to admit it, Jack was right. Ange knew that, even if they could fight off the first wave of the invasion force, Talon would just keep sending more troops their way, eventually toppling them like a tidal wave. They knew the location of their base, there was nothing else they could do but run.

"Winston," Jack began, "Figure out our method of transportation. That stealth ship you have isn't enough to hold all of us,"

"There's a Cruiser class dropship in the North Eastern wing of the hangar. It's more than enough to hold us, and a month's worth of supplies," Winston replied, matter-of-factly.

Reinhardt suddenly chimed in, "But can we transport Brigitte's van? Aside from it being the only thing we have to repair my armor, it's her family heirloom. She'd be crushed if she had to leave it behind!"

Holding his chin in his hand, Winston thought for a quick moment.

"It's cargo hold will definitely hold the van, Reinhardt. No need to worry,"

"Speaking of armor," Jack said, facing the old veteran, "Reinhardt, is Crusader online?"

"Ja, Kommandant!"

"Suit up. In case any of those terrorists set foot on this rock, I need you as the second line of defense,"

"Right away!" replied Reinhardt.

"Winston," Jack said, turning to the scientist, "Prepare the ship for takeoff, and make sure everyone is on board, with as many supplies as we can fit. And get Brigitte's van in there too, filled with supplies,"

"Roger,"

The two tanks left the conference room to attend to their assigned tasks. After they left, Morrison directed his attention to the bearers of bad news.

"Genji," he said, "Go wake up Alejandra, and get her to the ship. See if you can find her something to eat, and keep her there, understood?"

"Hai,"

With Genji gone, it was just Jack and Angela in the room. Morrison didn't want to speak about Genji's brother in front of him, so he waited until he was certain the cyberninja was nowhere near.

"How long until Hanzo is on his feet again?" he asked the doctor.

Angela ran a nervous hand through her hair, understanding they were short on time.

"It could easily take over two hours," she reported.

"We doubt we even have two hours,"

"I know that," she replied, sternly, "But he took a grenade for us. I can't speed up the process without dealing damage to the tissue,"

"I was buried under a building after taking an explosion to the face, and I came out just fine," he replied matter-of-factly.

"He's not pumped full of chemicals that enhance his healing and strength, making him better than the rest of us!" she snapped back.

Her response was surprising to Jack. He hadn't been talked back to like that in a long time, usually by superiors. But this was his friend; this was Angela, usually well mannered and calm. What would cause her to retaliate like that?

But then he realized what he had said, and immediately felt guilty. After years of being on his own, he'd forgotten what it was like to be part of a team, and understand that not all of them had the same resilience as him. Hanzo shielded Angela from the blast, and suddenly, Jack was beginning to respect the Shimada clan leader more.

"I'm… sorry Ange. I just..." he stopped, holding his forehead again.

His head began to hurt, a lot. He almost couldn't focus. What the hell was going on with him?

Angela noticed his sudden lapse of pain, and immediately went back to being her doctoral self.

"Are you alright?" she asked, walking closer to her commander.

"Yeah-yeah," he lied, nodding, trying to shake off the sudden migraine.

She rolled her eyes. Jack was never a good liar. She put her hand into one of her Valkyrie suit pockets and pulled out a bottle of aspirin and handed it to Jack.

Seeing the medicine, Jack sighed in defeat and took it, popping two of the pills into his mouth and handed it back to Angela. She waved it off, gesturing him to keep it. She, instead, placed her hand firmly on his shoulder, looking into his blue eyes.

"We're going to get through this Jack. I promise," she said gently, like she used to, years ago.

Jack gave her a slight nod as the pain from the headache left him. She always knew what to say and when to say it. He was glad to have her back; to have his team back. Jack saw the truth in her words, and was determined to make sure those words remained true.

"Yeah," he said, "you're right… just, just go do what you do best, Ange,"

She smiled kindly at that.

"You know I will," she replied, as she spun on her heal and left he room, returning to tend to Hanzo.

As she left, Morrison couldn't help but second guess what she had said. Doubt still lingered in his mind. Could he really lead them like he had all those years ago? Would he be able to pull them through this? It wasn't something he would have thought about when he was a young man. Maybe it was his age catching up to him. Maybe he just felt less confident in his abilities?

No. He was a soldier, and soldiers run into battle, without a shadow of a doubt in their heads. He'd lead them, like he used to. He'd fight, like he used to. And they'd win, they had to.

"Lena," he said, after setting his comlink to Lena's frequency.

"Oi?" she replied.

"I'm en route to the hangar. Meet me on the way there," he ordered, leaving the conference room.

"Oi," she replied.

Jack could hear the warping sound of her chronal accelerator, blinking into action.

XXXX

Lena found Jack not too long after he contacted her, marching swiftly to the hangar like he had said. She noticed how stone cold serious he was as he walked through the halls. Something was up. She blinked up next to him, not bothering to jump up on his back this time.

"Hiya, love. What's up?" she asked, keeping pace with him.

"Talon planted a damn tracking device on Mei, and no one found it until now. Those bastards are probably already on their way,"

A tracking device on Mei?! Lena was boiling up inside, wanting to unload a whole clip of her pulse pistols into Reaper's head. How dare they defile their friend like that!

"Bloody hell!" she exclaimed, "Alright… what's the plan?"

The two continued on their way to the hangar, Morrison explaining the plan as they went.

"We're preparing to evacuate the Watchpoint. We can't stay here, anymore. But we gotta buy time for everyone else. You and I are going to be the first line of defense,"

"Okay but… how?" Lena asked.

She knew this base was not supplied with any fighter jets or heavy class dropships. It was mainly a refueling station. How were they going to fend off an aerial assault? Unless, Jack was implying what she thought he was…

"There are two Slipstream fighters stored in the North Western wing of the hangar. The only two prototypes ever built. We're going to use those to buy Angela some time to get Hanzo on his feet again," Jack stated, opening the North Western hangar doors.

The gates slowly lurched open, but Jack and Lena walked in as soon as they opened wide enough for them to slip through.

"The Slipstreams?!" Lena objected, following him into the hangar, "You can't be serious. Jack, you know what that thing did to me. You really want to take that risk?"

She still remembered that day when she first tested the Slipstream. So excited and eager to be the head of Her Majesty's royal airforce. Little did she know she'd be flung completely out of this plane of existence, only to pop back up as a ghost. She had never felt more alone in her life during that time. In a way, she was still stuck in time, constantly having flashbacks now and again. Too much nostalgia for her, she guessed.

Jack's words brought her back to the present.

"We just won't use the time warping functions of the Slipstreams. On their own, they're completely capable fighter jets," he said.

Before continuing, Jack stopped, turning to face Lena. He looked her in the eyes, his serious tone changing to a soft sympathy.

"You're okay, right? You're not gonna back out on this?" he asked, clearly concerned for her.

She knew what he meant. Was she okay stepping inside the thing that doomed her to an eternal life, the thing that turned her into a ghost?

But he didn't have to worry. That was in the past. She'd move on since then. This mission; keeping her friends safe, was more important than PTSD, anyway.

"Of course! I'm not gonna back down from a fight! You know me better than that, love," she delivered a punch to his arm, jokingly.

Jack couldn't help but smile at that. He could tell she actually meant for that punch to hurt, but due to his enhanced durability, it felt more like someone threw a small paper back book at him.

Nonetheless, he was glad to see she wasn't going to let the past inhibit the mission. He knew her skills as a pilot far surpassed her skills as a soldier on the ground, so having her in the air would be paramount in their retreat.

"Good," he said, as they continued to make their way to their fighters, "You're the best pilot I know. I hope you haven't forgotten how to fly," he finished with a sly smirk, trying to provoke her.

"Pfft, Jack," Lena said, catching on to his joke, "I was born flying,"

XXXX

Reaper was growing impatient. They had just regrouped with the battalion on one of the Mediterranean islands (acquiring two heavy class dropships as well as some extra bombs for their stealth bomber, which Reyes was currently aboard), and had been en route to Watchpoint: Gibraltar for what seemed like hours now.

Since their departure, they had obtained a pilot for their bomber. Widowmaker suggested they should have a more suitable pilot for this mission, much to Reyes' grievance (he thought he was a perfectly capable pilot)

"Are we there yet?" he asked the pilot, furiously clawing at the back of the seat.

He was certain that Overwatch had found the tracking device by now, so he didn't want to miss their chance.

"We're an hour outside their perimeter, sir," replied the pilot, wincing every time he heard his commander's claws scraping against his seat.

"Good. When the Watchpoint is in sight, don't stop for anything. We've got a package to deliver, and we're not going to miss our mark," Reyes replied.

Making his way to the back of the bomber, Reaper saw Amélie adjusting her hybrid rifle. Once she was satisfied with it, she set it down beside her. Reyes took a seat on the opposite end, taking time to examine his gauntlets.

Something was off, and Widowmaker could see it. Back at Lijiang Tower, Reaper should have left her there, detonated the charges, and buried any evidence they were even there. But no. He saved her, going against Talon protocols. But, then again, they weren't taking orders from Talon anymore, where they? She'd have to return the favor at some point, she guessed.

"You've changed," she said, blankly.

Reyes looked up from his work, feigning ignorance to Widowmaker's remark.

"You should have left me to die," she continued, leaning forward, resting her forearms on her thighs, "but you didn't. Why?"

A brief moment of silence filled the compartment they sat in. Reaper didn't like this unusual questioning from his partner. She was normally the silent one, the one who waited to be addressed.

He also didn't like the questions she presented him. It was his own damn business. But, he felt obligated to provide her with an answer, for some reason.

"You're a valuable asset. It'd be stupid to let you fall into enemy hands," he fibbed.

Amélie saw through the half assed excuse as if she had her visor activated. On many occasions, Widow had to pull herself out of sticky situations, while Reaper stood and watched from a distance.

"Do not bullshit me," she snapped, coldly, "You rescue me from Lijiang Tower, and you even bandaged me up. I cannot say I'm slightly disturbed, and that's coming from someone who has no emotion,"

Reaper knew she'd just keep giving him that same condescending stare the rest of the way to the objective, until he said something.

It wasn't like him to open up to people, in fact, he never did. But something was waking up inside, something he thought he buried a long time ago.

"When I… sent them the message… to them…" he began, slowly. "I saw someone… a girl,"

Amélie tilted her head, curious to what he was talking about. She knew about the death of Mei, she planted the tracking device herself, but she didn't know Reyes actually talked to Overwatch during the time he killed her.

"And? What of it?" she asked, pressing on with the question.

"…She just seemed… familiar," he said, standing up, clearly not wanting to continue with this conversation, "I'm sure it's nothing. Just focus on the mission,"

Amélie shrugged it off. If he wasn't going to talk more now, there was no point in being persistent. But still, she'd have to keep an eye on him now. If he was going soft, could she rely on him? Sure, he saved her life, but that still confused her, and, in a way, almost made her not trust him.

This wasn't the Reaper they had brainwashed before Switzerland.

XXXX

Alejandra rubbed her eyes and she took a seat in the giant dropship that Genji had led her to. She wasn't expecting to be awoken so suddenly (she actually expected to sleep most of the day away, provided everything that had happened yesterday). But, if what the cyberninja had told her was true, that Talon was on their way, she was more than willing to get her butt out of bed.

Still, however, she didn't want to appear useless, or even worse, helpless. She needed her weapon. Out of the corner of her eye, Alejandra spotted Jesse McCree moving supplies into the dropship.

"Excuse me, Mr. McCree?" she spoke up, walking over to the former Deadlock gang member.

Jesse turned to face her, promptly pulling his cigar out of his mouth and putting it out on his mechanical arm.

"What can I do ya for, Ali?" he kindly replied, tipping his hat to her.

"I um, left my hand cannon at the shooting range. Can I go get it?" she asked, both politely and timidly.

Jesse couldn't help but smile at the girl's request. She definitely had spunk if Morrison trained her with that kind of weapon.

"Nah, you stay put, darlin'. I'll go fetch it for ya," he said, patting her head with his prosthetic.

Alejandra couldn't helped but feel perturbed by the head pat, but smiled nonetheless, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

"Gracias, señor McCree!"

Jesse nodded and tipped his hat one more time before leaving the dropship, en route to the shooting range.

XXXX

"Feels weird getting in one of these things again," Lena said, as she seated herself in the cockpit of her Slipstream fighter.

The nostalgia was surreal for her. She scanned over all the controls, the dials, the switches, even the cup holders. It was a bitter sweet feeling, being in this machine. For one, she definitely missed flying. On the other hand, this thing caused her a great deal of trouble, and still is, at this moment.

"That one you're in is actually the same one you tested nearly twenty five years ago," Jack commented, equipping himself with a pilot's helmet and parachute.

"What!?" exclaimed Lena, leaning so far out of the cockpit, she almost fell out.

Morrison smiled, amused by her reaction.

"Yep. Brass found it five years after your accident, buried nose down in Korea. Had to jump through a lot of hoops to get the tech back before the Korean military could get their hands on it,"

"Well why di-in't ya tell me?" she asked, folding her arms in what seemed like disappointment.

Jack just shrugged.

"No one thought you'd want to know," he replied, getting into his own Slipstream fighter, right next to Lena's

She supposed he was right, well, at the time anyway. Back then, she still held strong feelings about the Slipstream fighters, about the accident that unfolded because of the malfunction. Every time someone would bring up the subject, it would often shut Lena right up.

But that didn't matter right now. What mattered was using them to their advantage. Besides, she was over it. She learned to live with what she had now, and was almost grateful for what the Slipstream had done to her.

She became Tracer, a time warping marvel, a hero. But, then again, at what cost?

Suddenly, Torbjorn's voice echoed through both their comlinks.

"No no no! En- Oh, NO!" the Swedish dwarf cried, frantically.

"What is it, Torb?" Jack asked, pressing his fingers against his earpiece.

"Commander," replied Torbjorn, "They're here…"

XXXX

Bullets, missiles, flak, and smoke peppered the three Talon aircraft, the stealth bomber leading the charge ahead of the two Dropships. Reaper grimaced under his mask, annoyed by the automated turrets that retaliated against their attack.

That damn dwarf always had to overcompensate, didn't he?

The Talons had made their approach by the southern end of Watchpoint Gibraltar, and were welcomed by a firing squad of easily two dozen different turrets, varying in firepower,

The aircraft shields could take the abuse, but unless they took those turrets out, their troops were never going to set foot on the ground.

"Send them an EMP torpedo, dammit!" Reyes ordered, despite pushing the launching mechanism for said torpedo himself.

A fifteen foot tube ejected from the missile compartment of the stealth bomber, gracefully plopped into the ocean below them, and propelled itself forward, impacting solidly against the Rock of Gibraltar.

A small electromagnetic pulse washed up and over the cliff, instantly frying the circuits of Torbjorn's turrets.

XXXX

"My babies!" exclaimed Torbjorn, "Commander! We're gonna need that air support soon!"

As if on cue, two Slipstream fighters came screaming from around the Rock, moving on and intercept course for the Talon ships.

XXXX

Seeing the new fighters come into view, Reyes knew it was time to act.

"Show them our other set of wings, boys," he said on the comlink.

The ramps of the dropships lurched open, setting free Talon soldiers, adorning wingsuits. They jumped from their aircraft and glided freely over the Gibraltar sea, underneath the dropships, totaling at least two dozen soldiers.

"Use the aircraft to shield the troops until they reach the objective! Do not break formation, or I will personally rip your spines out and strangle you all with them!" he shouted over comlinks.

XXXX

"Lena!" Jack said, "We'll have to make strafing runs to knock out their shields. Focus fire on the dropships, since those have auto turrets!"

"Roger!" Lena shouted, nosing her Slipstream up to gain altitude over their opponents.

Jack followed suit, trailing behind Lena, making sure to not get too close, lest causing a collision.

Going in for their strafing run, Lena angled her fighter downwards, and squeezed her triggers, raining 20 mm lead on the Talon dropship closest to her. She'd save the missiles until the shields were down. At the speed they traveled, the missiles would casually bounce off the barriers surrounding the ship.

Jack made his strafing run after Lena, his volley of fire completely dissipating the first dropship's shields.

"Barrier down!" he yelled over comms.

That was Tracer's cue. She pulled up into a loop, and once she was nose down, completely above the dropship, she let loose her special delivery.

The missiles gracefully left Lena's Slipstream, as she completed the loop and took off perpendicular to their trajectory. The twin helix missiles dropped right on top of the defenseless target, and detonated on impact, ripping the aircraft apart into a glorious explosion of shrapnel and bright baby blue fire.

The explosion killed around one quarter of the wing suit troopers, but by that point, it didn't matter.

Jack and Lena could see the two remaining aircraft peal off from the attack, as the rest of the wingsuit Talons touched down on Watchpoint: Gibraltar. But those soldiers weren't going to get off that easy.

XXXX

The Talon units touched down on Watchpoint: Gibraltar in unison, leveling their assault rifles instantly, checking all flanks. Nothing moved, besides the dog fighting happening above their heads; they didn't even see that puny dwarf that made the now deactivated auto turrets.

"Clear!" said the Gunnery Sargent, gesturing the rest of the unit to fall in towards the entrance of the base.

They remained in a tight formation, twelve Talons upfront, six bringing up the rear. They weren't taking any chances. The concrete road they were following turned into a large dip, as it went under a large bridge, running perpendicular to the road. The path went straight into the side of the cliff, giving access to the rest of the base.

The unit was about to move in, making their way down the dip. But they wouldn't be going in any further.

The Gunnery Sargent held up a fist to the group behind him, gesturing them to halt. Something was coming from the opposite side of the path, beyond the dip in the road. They all heard it; the sound of metal scraping against asphalt, thrusters burning, the screams of an elderly man, and it was all getting closer.

"IIIINNNCOOOOOMIIIIING!" it yelled.

They saw it, a knight in glorious shining armor, wielding a glorious war hammer, charging straight for them, a brilliant flame trailing close behind him, sparks flailing upward from his metal greaves.

"Open fire!" cried out the Gunnery Sargent.

But too late. Reinhardt slammed right into the first two soldiers in front of him, including the Sargent, their bones breaking instantly from the impact. Pinned by Reinhardt's charge, they were pushed right into the side of a rock, their bodies instantly splattering on impact.

The remaining Talons surrounded the knight, training their sights on him.

"Hey!" Reinhardt said, brushing off the blood and entrails from his shoulder and arm, "I hit something! That never happens…"

Without a word, the Talons fired upon Reinhardt, who automatically activated his shield, blocking the incoming bullets.

The gunfire gently bounced off of Reinhardt's shield, barely even damaging the piece of precision German engineering.

"BRING. IT. ON. I live for this!" he screamed as he slowly marched forward, soaking up their damage.

The Talons continued to fire simultaneously, but, unfortunately, had to reload at some point. That was their biggest mistake.

"My turn," Reinhardt muttered, deactivating his shield, and charged forward, rocket hammer braced in both hands.

He hurled his hammer forward, striking two Talons at once, breaking their bones and sending them flying into a wall, collapsing on the floor.

Retreating from the Crusader, the other Talon agents finished reloading, and, after finding more defensible positions, continued to fire.

This didn't deter Reinhardt, however. The face of his hammer split open, revealing a hose with a small flame in front of it. Reinhardt swung his weapon forward, activating the flamethrower within, and released a large crescent of fire.

The flaming crescent hit its target and struck with such a force, it burnt the armor, and flesh, right off of the man, killing him instantly.

Bullets began to ping off of Reinhardt's shoulder, prompting him to reactivate his barrier.

"Toblerone! Barrier won't hold forever! Get out here!" he shouted, marching slowly behind a building to get more solid cover.

"For the last time…" muttered a Swedish voice, over comms, "It's TORBJORN!"

The small red and blonde ball from Sweden leaped from a roof, rivet gun in hand, and landed on the shoulders of a Talon unit directly below.

The Talon writhed and grabbed at Torbjorn, desperately trying to pry him off. But it was no use; Torbjorn's claw maintained a firm, vice like grip on the poor, unfortunate soldier.

The dwarf pumped a rivet right into the side of the Talon's skull, causing him to collapse, lifeless, onto the ground. Torbjorn jumped off before the body landed, and began firing away at the other Talons, oblivious to their comrade's demise, too focused on the blue rectangle that was Reinhardt's shield.

Eventually, they realized they had been flanked, and set half of their unit to fire upon the Swedish mechanic. Forced to dive for cover, both Torbjorn and Reinhardt were pinned, separated by a wall of Talons and gunfire.

XXXX

The second Talon dropship went down almost as soon as it pealed off from the wingsuit troopers, catching fire from a well aimed shot to the left thruster, and plummeted into the Gibraltar Sea. Now, all that was left was the stealth bomber.

Lena and Jack would strafe one at a time, just like they had done with the other threa-

Tracer took a glance down at the battle below; it didn't look good. Reinhardt and Torbjorn were facing against at least a dozen Talons down there, and, by the looks of it, didn't have any openings to make a move.

She couldn't fly by and give them air support without risking hitting them as well, no matter the angle she approached. She'd have to get stuck in, up close and personal.

"Jack!" she called over the comlink, "Rein and Torb are in a big mess o' trouble,"

"Understood," he replied, "Go. I've got the bomber,"

Lena nodded to herself and switched the channel to the two old soldiers' below. She didn't say anything though. She was waiting for the right time.

Lena pulled up, the nose of her Slipstream fighter pointing towards the clouds. She knew there was no landing strip where the fight was, and it'd take too long to circle around back to the hangar bay on the Northern side of the Rock. So, she improvised.

After gaining approximately three hundred feet of air, Lena popped open the cockpit, and jumped from the Slipstream. The pilotless aircraft stayed on course for a full three seconds before finally loosing speed, and, ultimately, rotated into a nose dive, and violently spun downwards.

Meanwhile, Lena was in free fall, feeling the rush of air fly by her every second. She was completely enveloped in wind, as she plummeted down to Earth at incredible speeds. She was right on top of the battle now, and could see the heads of everyone below her; Talon and Overwtach alike. Lena looked like she was about to land face first on the ground, at least, that's what it looked like to everyone else.

By that point, time was already slowing down for Lena, her chronal accelerator going to work. She'd use the momentum from the fall to plan her attack perfectly.

Everything around her moved in slow motion. Lena could see bullets spiraling, metal cascading, spit flying, it was like a movie. She waited till she was about three feet away from the ground, and that's when she blinked.

Time went back to normal after the blink, propelling Lena horizontally towards an unsuspecting Talon. Despite her size, the momentum of the free fall would cause her to collide with the Talon with the force of a Semi truck hitting a cat at one hundred and twenty miles per hour. The best part was, the Talon was going to cushion all of it for her.

Lena made impact with her target, grabbing him as they both were hurled across the battlefield. The force of the impact instantly shattered the Talon's spine; Lena could feel it split as she held onto the body.

She blinked again, towards another Talon, with the same speed and momentum, breaking his spine, and then another, and another.

To Torbjorn and Reinhardt, it just looked like an invisible ping pong ball was striking their attackers, one by one.

Lena finally lost the momentum from the free fall, and blinked one last time to one more Talon, reaching out and grabbing his head, and snapping it as she flew past him. She landed, flawlessly before his body hit the floor.

"Cheers, loves! The cavalry's 'ere!" Lena called out, through her comlink.

"Hahaha!" exclaimed Reinhardt, as he left his cover to join the fight, "Well done, Lena!"

Torbjorn couldn't help but roll his eyes, however, having to hear that line for the umpteenth time, but was grateful, nonetheless.

The three of them cleaned up the nine remaining Talon units, who, despite their advanced training, were no match for a German knight, a Swedish dwarf, and an English time warping pilot.

Torbjorn pumped rivet after rivet into them, Lena blinked across the battlefield, firing endlessly at their opponents, and Reinhardt brought the hammer down on their heads, shattering the earth.

The final Talon tried to escape, making a run for the cliff's edge, getting ready to wingsuit his way out of danger. But a large metal gauntlet grabbed hold of his head, and lifted him up to face a yellow T shaped visor.

"Let me go, you bastard!" he cried out, fruitlessly throwing punches out at the German giant.

"Let you go?" Reinhardt said, stepping closer to the edge of the cliff, "Hmph, as you wish,"

Still holding onto the Talon's head, Reinhardt wound up like a pitcher, and flung the Talon out towards the sea. His screams echoed through the air, as he helplessly spun out of control.

Reinhardt prepped his hammer for a firestrike, and flung a flaming crescent towards the Talon. It was a bullseye, completely singeing the body. The screaming ceased.

XXXX

"Where. Are. You going?!" Reaper asked.

The pilot of their stealth bomber was making a hasty retreat from the battle, seeing as how the invasion failed.

"Back to base, sir! We need to regroup," said the pilot, before being grabbed by the shoulder and flung out of his seat.

He collided with the back wall of the bomber, collapsing, unconscious. Reaper took his place in the pilot's seat, redirecting their bomber back to Watchpoint: Gibraltar.

"You might want to buckle up," he yelled back to Widowmaker, who heeded his advice.

He wasn't going to let Overwatch win the first round. He'd make sure this place would crumble, even if he had to set this damn bomber on a collision course, right at the mouth of their base. Actually, that didn't seem like a bad idea.

XXXX

Jack followed hot on the bomber's trail, trying to get a lock on it so the helix missiles wouldn't miss their target. The bomber had suddenly changed its course, back towards the base, but Jack couldn't make out why it would.

They had no one to back up; their dropships were down and the ground units were all dead. What else could they possibly do?

That's when Morrison realized how fast the bomber was making its approach, and how close it was to their base. They were crazy! Were they going to ram the aircraft into Gibraltar?!

"Lena, Reinhardt, Torbjorn! Get clear, now!" Jack yelled through his comlink.

He fired everything he had at the stealth bomber, hoping to take it down before it reached its destination.

Direct hits, everyone of them, but no use. The shields were too strong, and it was far too late. The Talon bomber flew straight into the dip under the bridge, its wings ripping right off from the base of the plane. Metal and rock flew from the impact, sparks and fire rippled through the air, as the bomber skidded across the road, into the entrance of the base

It slammed into the far wall, crushing the office that was attached to it, and burst into a brilliant orange and yellow flame.

Jack pulled up as soon as his target entered the base and flew over the Gibraltar sea. Having no landing strip, Jack ejected over the vast blue water below him and popped his parachute, watching as the Slipstream fighter plummeted down into the sea. He then angled his chute to glide gently down and join the rest of his team.

XXXX

Reaper kicked down the back hatch of the now flaming stealth bomber, allowing himself and Widowmaker to exit. The pilot was of no concern to them, and was probably dead by now, anyway.

Amélie eyed the catwalks above them, and gestured to Reaper of her plan. He nodded with approval. Widowmaker activated her wrist mounted grappling hook, and zipped up to the catwalk, on her way to find whoever else was in this base.

Reaper, however, had other plans. He'd stepped towards the dip where they had made their grand entrance, expecting the welcoming committee. And, sure enough, here they came, all four of them.

XXXX

"Come on, come on!" murmured Angela, monitoring the status of Hanzo's recovery.

She could easily hear the battle outside, explosions and gunfire alike. The team was buying her every second they could, and she feared she was about to lose those precious seconds.

But, thankfully, a green glow and a satisfactory ding! emanated from Hanzo's regeneration bed. The process was complete. The tissue and flesh and skin would look good as new. However, he was still not awake.

No doubt still knocked out from the initial blast. He might have a slight concussion, but that was another process entirely, something she'd have to work on later. Right now, she needed to get him out of here.

Angela scrambled through drawers and shelves and finally found what she was looking for; a syringe of adrenaline.

"Okay, Hanzo," she said as she held onto his left arm, "time to wake up,"

She gave him the injection and, after a brief pause, watched as his eyelids shot open.

The archer sat up instantly, screaming in some sort of panic.

"What?! Who am I? Where am I? Who are you?!" he yelled, scrambling out of the bed.

Angela restrained him against the wall, keeping a firm grip on his shoulders. She stared him in the eyes and did her best to calm him down.

"Hanzo, it's okay! It's me, Angela. You were hurt but we brought you here. You're fine now!" she explained.

However, the answer had not processed in his head properly. The adrenaline was too much for him right now.

"Have… have I died?" he asked, slowing down a bit.

Angela tilted her head in confusion.

"What? Why would you think that?" she asked.

"Because I'm looking into the eyes of an angel…" he responded, slowly leaning closer to Angela's face.

She couldn't help but blush at that, but rolled her eyes nonetheless.

"You're delirious from the adrenalin. Come on, we've got to get you out of here," she said, putting his arm over her shoulders and helping him out of the med lab.

"Very well… but… where is here?" Hanzo asked, as he hobbled with Angela out of the room.

XXXX

Amélie made her way to the hangar where the cruiser class Overwatch dropship resided, hovering in place, ready for takeoff. However, it remained inert, for whatever reason. She took cover in a suitable position, and peered down her scope, looking for unsuspecting targets.

Little did she know, she was the real unsuspecting target.

The catwalk beneath her suddenly exploded upward, as holes were being shot through it from below. Widowmaker quickly jumped from her cover and looked down.

McCree, wielding two weapons, his trademark Peacemaker in one hand, and a clearly higher caliber gun in the other, was training his sights right on the assassin.

She grimaced and grappled onto the other catwalk as quick as she could, flinging her self through the hangar.

McCree continued to fire, both weapons blazing away at their target. While in mid grapple, Widowmaker looked through her scope, and fired on the move. Three bullets flew through the air, one struck Jesse through the shin.

He yelled in pain as the shot went through his leg. The shot wasn't meant to kill him, but maim. She wanted to play with her food it seemed, before she made the killing blow.

Jesse fell to his knee and crawled to cover behind a pillar, knowing that he was, quite literally, a sitting duck now.

"I'm gonna need some back up here!" he yelled out through his gauntlet's communication device.

Amélie was already perched on the opposite catwalk, making her way to a better vantage point to fire on McCree. But she wouldn't get the chance.

Three shurikens planted themselves into the wall next to her. She turned to her right and saw a pair of feet flying right at her.

The impact of the kick sent her against the wall, while the cyberninja flipped back and landed deftly on the catwalk, right in front of her. Brandishing a new threesome of shurikens, Genji prepared to throw another volley.

However, Widowmaker was uncannily quicker, popping out a venom mine from her gauntlet. The tube hurdled straight for Genji, who, instinctively, drew his katana and cut through it like silk.

A purple cloud of toxic gas engulfed him, blocking his vision. Having an artificial respiratory system, Genji had no need to breathe like normal humans, having a constant flow of recycled and fresh air flowing through his new lungs.

However, he could not see his enemy, which most likely meant she was long gone. He pushed through the cloud and found he was right. The assassin was no longer in front of him.

XXXX

Jesse did what he could to prop himself up on the pillar he had taken cover behind, keeping his wounded leg up. He looked like a damn dog trying to take a piss. He wasn't moving anywhere like this.

"Need some help there, cowboy?" said someone from behind.

McCree spun around and almost fell over, but was caught by two, surprisingly strong, tan arms. He looked up and saw Brigitte smiling down, holding him up.

"Heh, well now," he said, with a small smirk, "Thank you kindly, ma'am,"

Brigitte put McCree's arm around her shoulders and made their way up the stairs, and back to the ramp leading to the dropship, where everyone else was waiting.

XXXX

Widowmaker had positioned herself along the beams high above the hangar, looking down upon everyone else, like flies caught in her web. Genji was still on the lookout for her, not even thinking to look up; stupid ninja.

She considered taking him out, but saw McCree and a tanner looking girl, helping him along the ramp. Time to take care of unfinished business.

Aiming down the scope, she lined up her targets, waiting for that oh so sweet two for one shot. Almost there. Just one more second.

She didn't see Genji finally noticing her, as she was just about to squeeze her trigger.

Knowing there was no time, Genji made a dash for where the bullet would be, and drew his katana outwards, slashing the air in front of him.

Amélie fired. Genji swung, but felt nothing collide with his blade. He had missed.

Genji landed on the catwalk and turned, expecting to see two dead bodies before him, but they remained standing. Instead, he saw three people, McCree, Brigitte, and, to his surprise, his master, extending an arm out towards the two.

In midair, right beside Jesse's head, hovered a glorious glowing orb, more golden than the sun, and, within it, the bullet which Widowmaker had just fired.

Amélie didn't believe it; the Omnic stopped her shot midflight?! No time to dwell on the issue. She was staring right back at four angry individuals. The odds were against her. She needed to retreat, now.

Brandishing two pairs of shurikens in his hands, Genji lobbed them all towards Widowmaker, who dropped from her perch and grappled her way out of the hangar, but not without catching a throwing star right in her left ass cheek.

She yelped in pain as she escaped, almost unscathed.

"I believe now is the time for us to leave," Zenyatta commented, letting the orb dissipate, causing the bullet to fall harmlessly on the ramp.

XXXX

Reyes was surrounded; Lena on the left flank, Reinhardt on his right, and Torbjorn from behind. If Reaper didn't know better, he'd think he was starring in a bad porno. But from the front, facing him, light cascading around him like a patriot sent from God himself, was Jack Morrison.

Reyes both felt disgusted and overjoyed. On one hand, Jack was alive, meaning Reyes had failed all those years ago. On the other, Jack was alive, meaning Reyes would have the pleasure of killing him again.

"So," he slowly began, walking towards the former strike commander, "you're alive,"

They all leveled their weapons at Reaper, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

"Hands up! Now!" Morrison ordered, firmly gripping his heavy pulse rifle.

Reaper stopped in his tracks and, as told, held his hands up high, though halfheartedly.

"Good to see you're still giving orders around here, Jack," he replied, scornfully.

Morrison furrowed his brow. This guy knew something, he was sure of it. He may have even had some part in the Switzerland attack. Jack was intent on finding out everything this guy knew.

"How the hell do you know my name, you psychopath?" he asked, stepping closer to the hooded mercenary.

Reyes gave a low, spine chilling chuckle, something that Morrison, and everyone else present for that matter, would much rather do without.

"I'm not a psychopath," he began, "I'm a high functioning psychopath,"

Those words hit Lena, Reinhardt, and Torbjorn like nukes from orbit, but for Jack, he felt like a planet had fallen on him.

There was only one person who responded to that word like that, and he was supposed to be dead, buried underneath a pile of rubble in Switzerland.

Reyes could feel the tension sink it. Good. That's what he wanted, to make them confused, make them scared. He'd win with fear inside of them, crawling around like rats in their heads, and snakes in their souls.

Jack was struggling to find words. The sounds of burning metal surrounded them all, but to Jack, it was all a vacuum of silence. _He_ was dead, Jack knew it. He saw the explosion engulf him, the bricks and beams fall on him. But, only _he_ talked like that. Only he would make that joke. Could it really be…

"… Gabe?" he finally said, slowly lowering his rifle.

Reyes gave that chuckle again, giving off an even worse effect on the other four than it did the first time.

If this really was Gabriel, then they needed to take him into their custody, right now.

"I'm so glad that the gang is all back together," Reyes said after his little laugh.

That was it, they knew who he was now. No turning back. Against his better judgment, Reyes let Talon's biggest cat out of the bag. Not like it mattered, however. He didn't work for Talon anymore.

Besides, seeing Jack again triggered something in Reyes. If he was going to be going around, showing off his face, Reyes felt like he should drop the bomb on them all as well. Speaking of bombs.

With his arms still raised, Reyes pressed a button on his gauntlet. The next second, the stealth bomber behind him exploded into a fireball of red, orange, and metal. The shockwave sent Torbjorn and Lena flying backwards, while Reinhardt and Jack were pushed a few meters away from Reaper.

The hooded mercenary's lower body faded into a black smoke, as he backed away deeper into the base, the eye slits of his mask glowing a blood red light.

"Gabriel!" shouted Morrison, running towards the dark figure, only to be held back by Reinhardt's massive arm, "Wait!"

But Reyes did not stop. He floated into the flames as the rest of the base began to crumble around them from the explosion, creating a chain reaction throughout Watchpoint: Gibraltar.

"Commander!" Reinhardt exclaimed, "We must move!"

As if on cue, the cruiser class dropship flew in from behind, Winston hanging out of the open ramp, his long arm extended, ready to pick them up. There was no room for them to land due to the debris, so they hovered as close as they could

Reinhardt lowered his hand to the ground, gesturing Torbjorn to get in. The dwarf nodded and got in position. Reinhardt catapulted the smaller soldier towards Winston, who caught him like a football, and let him onto the ship.

Next was Lena, who, after being launched, blinked deftly inside. Jack was last. Reinhardt held the commander in both hands, and flung him upwards to Winston, who caught him firmly and set him down.

Reinhardt then picked up his hammer and held it up as high as he could, and jumped. Winston grabbed the head of the hammer by both ends and lifted the one ton knight onto the ship.

The ramp lifted and shut as the dropship left the collapsing base, flying high over the Mediterranean Sea. Overwatch watched as their retired home fell apart, imploding from the inside out, rocks and metal and fire flying through the air.

The press would be all over this, no doubt being a signal flare to the UN. But one problem at a time. Right now, they needed a new home.

XXXX

 **Illios, July 23rd, 2056**

 **20 years before fall of Overwatch**

 **Illios Forests, on the Northern border of the island**

Status assessment: Heavy damage sustained.

Cause: Helix class rocket/ pulse ammunition.

Mission: Destroy human resistance in Illios.

Mission result: Failure. Complete loss of unit.

Processing… Processing.

New Mission acquired: Report back to Omnium for report and repairs.

Processing… Processing.

Establishing communication with Omnium…

Connecting… Connecting…

Error… Error.

CRITICAL DAMAGE TO ALL SYSTEMS.

CANNOT MAKE CONTACT WITH OMNIUM.

Error… Error.

Must make repairs. Must make repairs.

Initiating emergency repair systems.

Processing… Processing...

 **Illios, July 24th, 2056**

 **20 years before fall of Overwatch**

 **Illios Forests, on the Northern border of the island**

Emergency repair status: Adequate.

Results: Less than optimal.

Assessment: Will require further repairs when returned to Omnium.

The Mission: Return to Omnium.

Scanning environment:

Scanning… Scanning… Scanning…

Results: 100% biological and organic material. 0% Omnic within the area.

Processing… Processing…

Organic material identified: Nature.

Processing… Processing…

Nature… Nature…

The Mission: Report to Omnium for repairs.

The Mission: Report to Omnium for…

Error… Error…

FILE CORRUPT

The Mission: FILE CORRUPT

Error… Error…

The Mission: Nature… Nature…

Error… Error…

Begin Recovery of File: THE MISSION

The Mission: Report to Nature for Repairs.

ERROR… ERROR…

Emergency Shutdown Initiated!

…

 **Illios, Time and Date unknown**

 **Ten years after the fall of Overwatch**

 **Illios Forests, on the Northern border of the island**

Emergency Reboot Initiated!

Self Assessment Initiated.

Processing… Processing…

Stasis for many decades.

Unable to calculate how long.

Observation: Overgrown with Organic Material.

Organic Material Identified: Nature.

The Mission: Nature.

The Mission: Nature.

Movement detected!

Scanning.

Identified: Organic Material/ Animal

Species:

Processing… Processing…

Species Identified: Neognathae, Avian.

Destructive Capabilities: … None.

Capabilities: … Flight, Consumption of other Organic Materials, Vocalization and Communication through unidentified verbalization.

Conclusion: Nature.

The Mission: Nature…

The Mission: Nature…

The Mission: Nature…

Nature…

Nature…

Nature…

XXXX

I am so sorry this took forever, but I've been extremely busy this past month, it's just been crazy. But, I finally managed to get this chapter out, and I'm very pleased with it! I hope you all will be too! I'm so happy I was able to get this out before school started. I will try my best to get another Chapter out before then as well, but it will probably be a short one. Lol. I say that now, just wait. It will probably be even longer than this XD

I hope you all enjoy this! Don't forget to comment and leave your thoughts! Those are the real motivators! I love you all! Stay beautiful! Buh Bye!


	9. UPDATE 2 (Not a chapter)

UPDATE!

Hello lovely followers and favoriters and reviewers! I hope you all are liking this story so far. From the comments I read it seems that you do heh.

SO this update is about the newest addition to the Overwatch cinematic universe, specifically "The Last Bastion". In my story, Bastion was stationed on Illios, BUT, in the cinematic, he clearly is stationed in Eichenwalde. This is clearly lore breaking, so, to clear things up, I am just going to say that Bastion will make his way, somehow, to the German town, and be a part of that wilderness.

That being said, I am not sure when that part of the story will be up.

The reason being is that, I'm not feeling very motivated to continue this story as quickly as I used to. No, it's not because I'm losing interest in it, I love writing this story! But I wrote this story to give out to people, so that they can read it and enjoy it and comment on it.

Yes it is fun to write this story, but it's not worth it if people aren't going to be giving their thoughts.

And, while I am so very very grateful for the following that this story has been receiving, and I am so very thankful for the people who have been commenting and critiquing the content that I have provided so far, I find myself to be less motivated when I do not see reviews. I'm specifically talking about the latest chapter.

I know, it took a long ass time to make that chapter, and I am very sorry, and no it was not because I wasn't feeling motivated, it was because I was busy as heeeck. Plus it was a long ass chapter.

But time and time again I see the views on the chapter go up, but no comments, which was the main source of motivation for me to continue. I want to know that people are enjoying the story, even if it isn't a long in depth paragraph of praises or constructive criticism, a comment is a comment. Even if it's the tiniest comment in the world, it's something, you know?

Why bother creating something for people if no one is going to give thoughts?

Now I'm not saying that this story is DONE because people won't give comments, I will definitely continue making it, just, Personally, it won't be as enjoyable if people don't comment.

And I see that people are viewing the chapter, but I can't tell who it is, or I can't tell what they thought of it. I put a lot of work into the seventh chapter, and it gets a little demoralizing to not see a review.

I hope this doesn't come out as selfish or anything, I mean heck, it's not like youtube where you get money per subscriber or anythign. No. I do this story because it's something that brought me joy in a time of boredom and stress.

But it wasn't writing the story that I found I loved, but the reactions that people got.

And even if people say negative things about the chapter, that's fine. I need criticism to build up my writing style.

So please, even if it's on this update, review, so that I feel motivated to bring this story to you guys, sooner than later.

Of course school is starting up very soon and I won't have as much time as I would during the summer, but that's life. But I guarantee that I will feel better about making this story if people continue to review and comment and critique, and it can become a better story for everyone to enjoy.

Thank you all so much for commenting and reading Our Heroes. I will do what I can to keep up the flow of chapters, but I'm not sure when the next one will come out, but one thing is for sure, it will be much shorter than chapter 7.

You are all amazing people and I hope you look forward to more!

PS

I also understand if the late timing of chapter 7 is the reason why no one commented, but I see the views, I know people are reading it. Just don't forget to comment. Please. Heh. I wish you all a great day and a great rest of the summer! Or winter or what ever time it is for anyone else!


	10. Chapter 8

Thank you all for keeping up with this story so far! I'm sorry but the next few will be quite shorter due to the fact that I want to provide y'all with more content quicker, but in smaller bites. So no more 35 page chapters for a while haha!

Thank you also for responding to that update 2, to those who did! I truly appreciate it and I literally started writing after you responded. It was just what I needed to get back in the swing.

I also want to say I found it quite coincidental that Blizzard announced the Bastion cinematic right when I was going to reveal that Bastion was appearing in this story, albeit a little off of where he should be. But that will be rectified later on. Until then, here is your chapter! Enjoy!

XXXX

They watched, watched as their home burned, as it crumbled, as it fell into the Mediterranean sea below, splashing and spraying up into the air with every chunk of rock and metal that dropped into the watery abyss.

But they knew that the destruction of Watchpoint: Gibraltar was the least of their worries at the moment. The fallout of this event would lead to other setbacks, no doubt, and Overwatch knew it.

Angela was attending to McCree's injury, removing the bullet that was lodged inside his shin, and wrapping it up in gauze and a cast. He had to stay off his foot for a while.

They were miles out at sea, Athena doing what she could to make their escape damn near untraceable. Before long, they were cruising right in the middle of a vast blanket of blue, the sun shining high overhead.

"I cannot believe it's gone..." Genji said, breaking the silence, "It was so beautiful. I never appreciated it before,"

"Ja," replied Angela, taking a seat next to Jesse, who had tipped his hat over his eyes to get some rest, "I was just getting settled in… I'm deeply sorry, everyone. We should have been more thorough with Mei's body,"

There was no need to acknowledge the mistake again. Everyone silently accepted the apology, and moved on. Reinhardt was the third to speak.

"While it is a tragic loss, the destruction of the base, there are more pressing matters we must address," he said in a cold, grave tone, so unlike his normal jolly self.

Lena, Torbjorn, and Jack, all knew what he was referring to; they saw and heard with their own eyes and ears. The others, however, turned their eyes and ears to the Crusader, eager to hear what he had to say.

"What're you talking about, Rein?" Brigitte asked, taking a step closer to her comrade.

For whatever reason, Reinhardt couldn't bring himself to speak. He looked away, feeling a mixture of anger and confusion wash over him like a tidal wave. Something held him back from speaking up, which was a first, since he has always been the kind of man to speak his mind. This, however, shut him up tighter than a little girl's diary.

Jack decided he'd tell them, tell them all what they had found out today. They all needed to know.

"Gabriel… He's alive," he said, somberly.

The only ones who didn't look at Jack with disturbed faces were Lena, Torbjorn, and Reinhardt. Everyone else didn't believe what they just heard. The only one who didn't show too much concern was Jesse, who just lifted his head up a notch to look out from under the brim of his hat.

"What?" said Angela, "How can that be?"

Her heart thumped in her chest hard, like drums in an orchestra. Gabriel… She hadn't seen him ever since…

"Talon turned him into… Reaper," Jack finished, giving them the other half of the story.

Jesse's cigar slipped from his mouth when Morrison dropped that bomb. As for everyone other than the four that were present during Reyes' reveal, they just gave Jack wide stares of disbelief.

Angela's heart sank like a flooding submarine. Guilt welled up inside her chest, guilt she thought she had pushed down years ago. She thought the memories would be buried, forgotten. But now, after this news of Reyes, she knew the demons of the past were coming back.

The question that filled her mind was, should she tell them what she knew; what she did, what Talon made her do?

"Wait! Jack!" exclaimed a younger voice, the voice of Alejandra, making her way to Morrison.

She ran right up to him and grabbed his coat, looking up at the soldier with wide and hopeful eyes.

"Are you serious? He's alive?! Gabriel is alive!?" she asked, over and over, impatient for the answer.

"Ali, wait," he replied, calmly, trying to settle her down, putting his hands on her small shoulders, "we don't even know if he is your father. It's just a theory,"

"But he's a live?!" she asked one more time, more sternly than before.

Jack sighed, "Yes, he's a live,"

"Oi, hold on, hold on!" said Lena, bumping into the conversation, "Star' from the beginnin', loves. What's this about? First we find out that Gabe is alive, at least… I think he is, and now you're tellin' me he's this sweet little thing's father?!"

Jack couldn't help but rub his temples in frustration, but he could see the confusion in everyone's eyes, with the exception of Genji, of course. He wish he'd explained this to them earlier.

"There's nothing concrete. It's just a theory based on data we've found. Nothing to prove, yet. So please, don't get your hopes up, Ali…" he said, not wanting her to think on this matter at the moment.

But he knew it would be in vain.

Alejandra looked away, frustrated at the remark, folded her arms, and walked from Jack, back into the cargo hold at the other end of the cruiser.

Jack held his forehead in his hand, thinking he could have handled that better. But how could he? Too much had happened today. He'd have to talk with her later, set things straight, try and find more evidence to either prove or disprove their theory. But, one thing at a time.

"As disturbing as this revelation is," Reinhardt began, removing his helmet and taking a seat, "there are other things we need to worry about. For instance; our home is gone. We need a new one,".

"Well, we can't go to any of the other Watchpoints," Lena stated, taking a seat on the holo-map table in the center of the compartment, "Gabe is on their side… He's probably got Talons all over those locations by now. There's nowhere to run…".

Jack added, "Not to mention, the press is going to be all over the Gibraltar explosion. That means the UN will be looking into it. We've got enemies on both fronts if they start suspecting we're involved,"

A dead silence filled the area for a moment, everyone reflecting on the ramifications of their situation. Jack was right. They didn't have just Talon and this new Omnic crisis on their hands. The United Nations would be getting involved as well, only creating more roadblocks on their path to peace.

"I believe I can be of some assistance, in this matter,"

Everyone turned to the Japanese archer, who stood up from his seat at the back of the room. He looked over each of them, watching as their interests were peaked by his comment.

"Brother!" Genji exclaimed, going to Hanzo's side, "You are well?"

"Hai, thanks to the good doctor," he replied, giving a slight smile and a bow towards Angela. He then continued with his previous statement, "I told Genji that his old home would once again welcome him, with open arms. That includes his allies as well,"

Hanzo directed his eyes towards Morrison, as if searching for a sign of recognition or approval. He wanted to make sure he had the commander's respect.

Little did Hanzo know, he already had Jack's respect the moment he saved Angela from the grenade. Morrison gave a nod to the archer, accepting the offer. Hanzo nodded back, giving his own respect.

If Hanzo was willing to lend his home to people he literally met one day ago, and take a grenade for Angela, then this was a man worthy of Jack's trust.

"Well," Winston said, "if that's the plan; Athena, set course for Shimada Castle,"

The vessel accelerated and glided over the Mediterranean, adjusting its course for Hanamura.

XXXX

"What in blazes were you two thinking?!" yelled councilman Harvey Kaur, head of military strategy for Talon.

Reaper and Widowmaker had been retrieved from the wreckage of Watchpoint: Gibraltar, before Spanish authorities had arrived at the scene, and were brought back to Talon headquarters, deep in the heart of Northern Ireland. But while their headquarters was stationed within Ireland, Talon is comprised of operatives and agents and officials from multinational backgrounds and heritages.

The two agents currently being hounded by councilman Kaur were brought directly to the courtroom for questioning. The other council members quietly took their seats along the sides while Kaur badgered at Reyes and Amélie.

"First, you inform us that agents of Overwatch are being recalled, albeit not under the authorization of the United Nations. We told you to look into it, not take an invasion force and lead an assault without our approval of the mission!" he continued.

Reyes just kept his arms folded across his chest, not particularly caring for the lecture. Amélie stood behind him, a hand on her hip, indifferent to the situation. They both knew that none of this man's words would matter in the long run. They worked for someone else, now.

"Furthermore!" Kaur said, "you come here and tell us that our Chairman, my brother, the founder of Talon, has been killed?! Decapitated by some African warmonger, who claims to be the successor to the Doomfist moniker? And that he expects us to fall in behind his rule and help him achieve what we are already trying to do?"

By this point, Reyes was getting thoroughly annoyed with the English councilman. A decent sized headache was forming in the back of his head.

"Are you actually going to expound upon the conversation, or are you just going to continue to regurgitate what I just told you ten minutes ago?" he asked Kaur, frustration seasoning every word.

"Then allow me to elaborate, Reaper," Kaur snapped back, inching closer to the cloaked mercenary, "You will no longer demonstrate insubordination in the face of your superiors and inferiors alike. You will forget about this 'Doomfist' and return to your proper duties as a Talon operative. Or else we will undo everything that Ziegler did to turn you into what you are now. Have I made myself clear?"

Before anyone could blink, Reyes drew his shotgun from his coat and jammed the barrel under Councilman Kaur's chin. At once, every councilman on the sides unholstered their sidearms and took aim at both Reaper and Widowmaker, the latter unmoving during the whole situation.

She knew what Reyes was about to say and it would deter every one of these old goats from pulling their triggers.

"Oh please," Reaper began, "You all really think you can kill me? Sure you'll probably kill her," he gestured to Widow behind him with a turn of his head, " but, if I wanted, every last one of you would be dead before you could even blink,"

They kept their sights trained on the hooded merc but, deep down, they all knew he was right. Reyes continued.

"Now you listen to me, you English dog," Reaper scoffed, closing the distance between him and Kaur, "That African warmonger has the cure to my curse, to turn this-" he held up his free hand, making it form into a sickly black mist and reform back into a limb, "-into flesh and blood again. And I'll be damned if I let this opportunity slide by me, even for an instant,"

Sweat began to drip down Kaur's forehead and chin, feeling the cool of the barrel of the shotgun almost burn him with its presence. But he kept a calm, stone cold face as he stared back at the mask in front of him, unmoving, not showing fear in the face of death. Reyes continued.

"So, this is what's going to happen. We all work for him now and we follow his plan to the letter. If everything goes right, you get to keep your head, unlike the Chairman. Have I made _myself_ clear?"

Kaur swallowed the spit that was gathering in his mouth and took a breath. He didn't realize he had been holding it. The blank black holes of Reaper's mask stared right back at him, and Kaur remembered why they gave him the disguise; not to hide the scars or deformity of his skin but to let people stare into the abyss of what awaited them, to make them know that this thing wasn't an imitator of the Angel of Death; he _was_ the Angel of Death.

"… So this is what happens when a secret weapon turns against its creator. When does he arrive?" Kaur finally said.

The gun was lowered from the councilman's chin and tucked back into Reaper's coat. The other men and women on the sides holstered their weapons as well, all of them in disbelief of what they were hearing, but knew they had no other choice but to comply.

"He hasn't said anything," Reyes stated, backing away from the Councilman, towards Amélie, who had not stirred the entire time, "But, when he does say something, I'll let you know. Enjoy the rest of your day, council members,"

The two walked briskly out of the room, Reyes opening the door for Amélie, and promptly slamming it shut as he left the men and women to talk amongst themselves.

XXXX

Jesse leaned up against the back of his seat, gently chewing on his cigar. He didn't bother lighting it, they were in a sealed area after all, with no fresh air besides the AC. The news about Reyes bothered him and it bothered him a lot.

His old boss, his friend, his mentor, his traitor, still alive? An anger rose up in him, an anger that could only be quelled by one thing: revenge. He clenched his metal appendage, tight enough to almost dent his palm. Of all the people to come back from the dead, why did it have to be him?

"You doin' okay, cowboy?" said a female voice next to him.

McCree turned to see Brigitte taking a seat next to him, giving a warm welcoming smile. He graciously returned the gesture and tipped his hat.

"Heh, thanks to you, I am. Wouldn't be on this boat without ya'," he replied, patting the knee of his injured leg.

"Heh, any time," Brigitte replied, "But I was talking about the news..."

Hearing that kind of put Jesse back into his original mood, but he didn't show it to Brige. He just looked down at the floor ahead of him, folding his hands together.

"He just recruited me, that's it," he replied, trying to sound matter-of-factly.

Brigitte gave him the 'oh really?' look.

"I'm sure there was more than just recruiting," she persisted. She saw the anger in him, she just needed him to let it out.

But Jesse was good at keeping his cool. He always was.

"He did teach me a thing or two back in the day. But, lucky for me, I've still got a few tricks of my own," he replied, chewing on his cigar.

Brigitte was about ready to give up. If he didn't want to talk then it was his decision. She wasn't going to force him to let out feelings, that was just counter productive. But then-

"Honestly, I ain't surprised that he survived," Jesse said, suddenly, "I mean, if Jack lived through it, why wouldn't he?"

Well, at least that was something, Brigitte thought. Reinhardt had told her much about Overwatch during her time as his assistant and, therefor, knew that Reyes recruited Jesse years ago and took him under his wing.

After his sudden betrayal, Brigitte expected that everyone, especially McCree, would have some serious beef with the man, if he were still alive. Turns out, he was, and all she wanted to do if see if Jesse was okay.

"Though, personally," Jesse spoke up again, "I wish he had stayed buried under that ruble. The world doesn't need him anymore than it can throw him and, quite frankly, the world has its hands full already,"

Brigitte saw something in McCree's eyes, something that she was trying to get out of him. The fire, the rage, the anger, all of it collected in his pupils into one feeling: blood lust. The funny thing was, he didn't even look angry. He just stared blankly at his feet, but the look in Jesse's eyes told Brigitte everything. She feared for him. He was a good man and she didn't want this anger to be the end of him.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, getting his attention.

"If you ever need to talk, you know who to come to," she said, looking him in the eyes, watching the fire fade.

McCree smiled at that and gave her a nod, taking the cigar from his mouth, as a demonstration of respect.

"Thank you kindly, darlin'. I'll keep that in mind," he said, and promptly set the cigar back between his teeth.

Brigitte couldn't help but tilt her head, watching as the man chewed on the stick of tobacco.

"You know that's a bad habit?" she gently said, not wanting to sound rude.

Jesse gave a small smirk and side eyed her.

"In times like these, it's not too bad to have a bad habit,"

Brigitte would remember that.

XXXX

After half the day had already gone by, Athena finally spoke up to Winston.

"Now arriving at Shimada Castle, Winston," she reported.

The scientist was busy delving into a fresh jar of peanut butter when he was alerted. After taking one more quick scoop with his fingers, and reveling in the taste of the buttery goodness, he fancied a peak through the cockpit.

What he found, however, was less than satisfactory.

"Commander," he called out, "we may have a problem,"

At once, Jack Morrison marched his way towards Winston.

"What's wrong, Winst?" he asked, standing next to the talking ape.

He gestured the commander to look through the cockpit with him.

"We've got a welcoming committee and they don't look very welcoming,"

Down below in the Shimada courtyard, dozens of guards lined the catwalks and walkways, weapons trained on the cruiser class vessel above them. They appeared to have a ring leader, an elderly looking Japanese man, adorning a long trench coat and white scarf. He held no weapon but, if looks could kill, his could wipe out an entire army.

Jack couldn't believe what he was seeing. Hanzo said they were welcomed here, so what the hell was going on?

"Hanzo! Genji!" he yelled.

The Shimada brothers answered the call and made their way to the commander, who gestured them to look at their predicament. The two scanned the guards below the hovering dropship, Hanzo being incredibly furious.

He had ordered Daisuke to warn him if anything happened. Why hadn't he informed him of this? It was then that the two brothers saw the ring leader of the group and they understood exactly what was going on.

"He's here," Hanzo said to his brother, who nodded silently.

They hadn't seen this man in decades and had hoped they'd never have to see him again. However, the past has a way of coming back, in any shape or form.

"We will handle this," Hanzo said, turning on his heel and walking towards the emergency exit.

Genji was about to follow his brother when a firm grip was placed on his shoulder. The ninja turned his head to see Jack, keeping his hand on him.

"Genji, I'm not letting you two go in there alone," he said, sharply.

He already lost one ally this week, he wasn't about to lose two more. Genji couldn't help but smile underneath his mask. This man was still the Jack Morrison who led him into battle years ago. However, he and Hanzo could deal with this themselves; had to deal with this themselves.

"Commander, this is a family matter. Please understand," he said, gently, trying to sway Jack's decision.

While Jack was still opposed to the idea of letting just the two of them down there, he knew that Genji was a trust worthy man, a man of his word. If he said they could handle it, then Jack believed them.

He dropped his hand from the metal shoulder and gave Genji an approving nod, which Genji returned, respectively, and joined his brother at the emergency exit.

"Oi! Genj," Lena said, walking up to her friend.

She had just woken up from a nap and was furiously scratching the back of her head, eyes half open.

"Wha's goin' on? Where're you two goin'," she asked.

"Just going to clear the LZ, Ley. Don't worry," Genji replied.

Confused as to why the Landing Zone wasn't clear already, Lena blinked over to the cockpit and looked through the windshield.

"Bloody hell!" she exclaimed, seeing the Shimada guards down below.

Before opening the emergency exit, Genji called out to Winston.

"Winston!"

The scientist looked up from the monitor and back towards Genji. The cyber ninja was holding a rather familiar looking device.

"I'm going to be borrowing this," Genji said, plainly.

Winston looked down at this hip and noticed his barrier generator was gone. That damn ninja.

"You could have just asked!" growled Winston, frustrated with Genji's bad habit.

The ninja scoffed, "You know that's not my style,"

Hanzo opened the emergency exit and jumped from the Dropship, landing gracefully on the wooden walkway in front of the Shimada Bell Gazebo. Genji followed suit, leaping from the exit and landing next to his brother, deftly.

The two faced the elderly man in the long trench coat and scarf, glaring at him with fire in their eyes, and an equal fire burning in their souls. This was the man responsible for everything that has come between them. This was the man who ordered Hanzo to kill Genji. This man ruined everything.

"… Uncle," Hanzo sneered.

On both sides of their uncle, two guards aimed their sub machine guns at the two brothers, poised to protect their leader. The other guards all around the catwalks and courtyard leveled their weapons at them as well, barrels burning with anticipation.

"If I remember correctly," their uncle began, "and I have a long memory, you-" he looked towards Genji, "are supposed to be dead. And you-" he looked towards Hanzo, "are _also_ supposed to be dead,"

"As you can tell," Genji spoke up, "it is hard to remove blood,"

"So it would seem," the uncle replied, "Your father was a fool to believe either of you could take over this clan,"

The mention of their father that way singed the two brothers like a branding iron.

"We would be, if you hadn't manipulated us and turned us against each other!" spat Hanzo, tightening his grip on his bow, whitening his knuckles.

Their uncle couldn't help but chuckle to himself. He could still see the immaturity in both of them.

"You two were never fit to lead this clan. Your father let you-" he looked at the ninja, "keep to your foolhardy, irresponsible ways! And as much as he tried-" he looked at the archer, "he never hardened your weak little shell. You were always so emotional; flimsy like a soft boiled egg!"

There was no comeback to that, because it was the truth. Genji wouldn't leave his way of life because his father had told him not to, and Hanzo was always emotional, because life without feeling is meaningless. It was their ways that got them here now, together, stronger than the man in front of them, who they had to call blood. If he was anything less, this would all be over in an instant. But no, he was blood, and they couldn't just kill him.

"You should never have returned, Uncle," Genji said, threateningly.

"No, nephew, it is you two who should never have returned. Fire!"

In an instant, bullets and rpg's, rifle fire and small arms fire soared through the air, all of it flying towards the Shimada brothers, a glorious plume of smoke and fire and wood emanating from the impact.

The gunfire lasted for a full minute before uncle held up his hand, prompting them to cease fire. The hail of gunfire stopped, leaving nothing but a cloud of smoke and wood chips in its wake. Uncle Shimada and his two guards inched closer to the cloud, expecting to see a stain of blood and bones.

But instead of seeing something, they heard the last war cries they would ever hear in this life.

"Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!"

"Ryujin no ken wo kurae!"

Before they could blink, three dragons of pure light exploded from the dust cloud, two colored a glorious glowing blue, intertwining with each other, soaring towards the uncle. The third was a beautiful shade of emerald green, which deviated from the blue dragons and, instead, circled back in an arc, heading for the guards on the catwalks behind.

The light from the dragons illuminated the courtyard, filling it with spectacular blues and greens throughout the area. The Overwatch agents within the dropship stared in disbelief, as the spirit animals passed through their foes, who screamed in agony and torment and horror.

The two blue dragons hit their targets first, engulfing the uncle and his two guards. The uncle, being a Shimada, was not killed by the initial blow. His men, however, came out worse. A white essence was ripped from their bodies as the dragons flew through them. The animals were literally consuming the souls of their enemies.

The guards on the catwalks tried to escape, but the green dragon was relentless in its pursuit. Jaws wide open, emerald teeth glimmering in the setting sunlight, the dragon devoured its prey, pulling the souls from their bodies, and they fell, lifeless on the wooden boards.

The green dragon spirit then dipped down into the courtyard itself and engulfed the guards cowering behind the rock centerpiece, trying desperately to hide from its gaze, but to no avail. Their life essence was taken from them as well, and they suffered the same fate of their comrades.

The three spirit dragons then flew into the air, gracefully dancing among themselves, intertwining their long serpentine bodies, until they slowly faded from existence, blending in with the red and orange sunset. They would await for the next time they were summoned, as was the pact they had made with the Shimada family of the ancient past.

Uncle Shimada fell to his hands and knees and coughed, blood pooling from his mouth onto the floor boards below him. He may have been able to survive the dragons, but the wounds they inflicted upon him would eventually take their toll, and finish him slowly. Damn those boys. His brother taught them well.

The smoke cleared to reveal the Shimada brothers safe within a glistening sky blue shield barrier, Hanzo with his bow drawn and Genji with his _Ōdachi_ unsheathed. After returning his weapon to its scabbard, Genji deactivated the barrier and the two of them approached their dying uncle, who glared at them from below.

The man wheezed, his lungs and insides burning with a fire unbeknownst to man. Why couldn't he just die already? Why haven't they killed him already?

The two nephews looked down at their kin, almost pitying him in his belittled state. This was the man who once held such authority in their life, a man who they respected when they were young. Now, all they saw was the man who ruined their lives.

"We should hang you for what you've done," Hanzo grumbled, looking down at his maimed uncle.

The man just grimaced and gagged, too weak to stand but too healthy to die. It was almost like a purgatory. He was waiting for one of them to deal the final blow and end the suffering. He knew it would come any second, without warning. Just a quick strike and it would be over. Come on. Do it!

"But, you are still blood," Hanzo finally said.

That surprised the Shimada uncle, forcing him to look up at his nephews. Genji drew his katana from his lower back and handed it to their uncle, the handle facing towards the wounded man.

"You can either die without a shred of dignity to your name and be forgotten in the sea of time," Genji began, "or, you can die with honor,"

Uncle Shimada knew exactly what his younger nephew was telling him. He looked from the face plate to the blade, then repeated it once more, until he reached out and grabbed the weapon. He forced himself to sit up on his knees and straighten his posture, with much difficulty, feeling every joint and muscle scream in agony.

After sitting upright on his knees, their uncle began to laugh to himself, getting in a few coughs between each laugh.

"You two… really are your father's sons," he mumbled under his breath.

Genji drew his _Ōdachi_ from its sheath and stood beside his uncle, waiting.

"… Nephew," he said, looking up at the ninja, "You thought you had destroyed your family legacy..."

Genji knew he was referring to the arms dealing his family was so famous for. He had shut down their business years ago, however. What on earth was his uncle talking about?

"But -cough- you could not have been further from the truth," their uncle continued, "The clan… will never stop trading weapons. We have always worked outside of Hanamura. -cough cough-… We are everywhere,"

Genji couldn't believe what he was hearing. All those months of meticulous planning and executing, all for nothing?! He had systematically taken down his family's arms dealing business just to find out they had even more operations elsewhere? Why hadn't he known? How did this slip by him?

He was too furious to even speak. He just clenched the handle of his _Ōdachi_ tighter, enraged by his inability to be more thorough. That was his mission, he should have seen this years ago!

"But I will tell you… where to start looking," their uncle said, pressing the point of the blade against his abdomen.

The two brothers looked down at their uncle, waiting to hear the information of the locations of the illegal arms.

"… Start over at the place… where beginnings and endings meet," is all he said.

With those final words, their uncle plunged Genji's katana deep into his stomach, feeling the cold unforgiving blade pierce his warm soft flesh. The pain of the katana entering him was nothing compared to the spirit dragons, however, so he endured the pain, feeling the life slowly drain from his body.

Genji drew his Odachi and held it high above his head, watching as his uncle began to lean forward, exposing the back of his neck to the ninja. Staring down at his dying uncle, Genji let out a loud scream, echoing throughout the courtyard, and brought the sword down, swift as the wind.

The headless body collapsed on its side, muscles going limp, katana sticking out from the belly. After letting the blood drip from his Odachi, Genji gracefully slid the weapon back into its sheath, and retrieved his secondary weapon.

Hanzo released his breath. He hadn't realized he was holding it. That's twice he was responsible for the death of a family member, except, this time, this one wouldn't be coming back from the dead.

Their uncle's death seemed truly bitter sweet. This man had played in the gardens with them, taught them how to make weapons, trained them along side their father. But this was for the best. He had become too cruel as time passed, caring only for the success of the clan, forgetting his blood in the river of progress. He was someone that would become nothing more than a forgotten memory in time.

The drop ship behind them lowered to the ground, filling up almost the whole center of the courtyard. One by one the other members of Overwatch filed out, observing the carnage around them. Dozens dead, within seconds.

Lena and Jack were the first to approach the two Shimada brothers, who did not turn to face their allies, keeping their heads bowed, saying a silent prayer for the ones that they sent from this world.

"Well, I'm just glad you two are on our side," Lena commented, having her fill of the spectacle.

After a moment, Genji turned to face Morrison. To the commander, Genji's posture suggested he felt immense guilt.

"I am sorry, commander. I had believed I had completed my mission. It turns out, I had failed…" he said, solemnly.

Jack could see the body language Genji displayed. You could tell immediately when he felt guilty or sad or joyful or anything, really. It was one of the only ways he could express himself, since he kept his faceplate on most of the time, anyway.

Jack put his hand on Genji's shoulder and looked into his eyes through his vizor.

"We all failed, Genji, trust me. We all did," Jack said, passing by the ninja towards Hanzo.

Genji listened to those words, not truly understanding their meaning. He thought hard on them for a moment, but couldn't quite put it together. He'd find out, one day.

Hanzo looked over his home, littered with bodies of former servants and guards. Just in one fell swoop, dozens were dead, such was the power of the Shimada lineage.

Jack Morrison stood beside him, surveying the area with the archer. The evening breeze swept over them like a soft silk sheet, keeping their minds serene. Hanzo did not avert his eyes from his home, but, after a moment, spoke up.

"Welcome… to Shimada Castle,"

XXXX

Hello beautiful people! So sorry this chapter was shorter, but I'm runnin on fumes here from being busy, and I really wanted to get this out to y'all as soon as I can while still providing quality! I hope this chapter is okay! The next few ones will be kind of short slice of life mixed in with crucial plot points! But school literally starts on Wednesday so yeaaah. Until you see an update or something, this story will be put on hold for a while, until I grab some free time out of the anus of time.

I hope this chapter meets expectations and I promise you, the next chapter will be a feelstrip so get your permission slips signed! It's gonna be bumpy!

Don't forget to review and critique! Thank you all! Have a wonderful day! I appreciate every one of you!


	11. Chapter 9

Hello! So it's been a while I know, but college is college haha. So, hope this chapter is worth it to you all! You know I work hard on these for you guys to enjoy. I don't want anyone disappointed, and if you are… I'm sorry lol

BTW, until Sombra is officially announced, nothing about her will appear in this fic. So NO, Alejandra is not Sombra!….Yet. XD we will see, okay? A warrior's greatest weapon is patience. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!

XXXX

It took hours, but they finally moved and cremated the bodies of the dead Shimada guards, including Hanzo and Genji's uncle. The smoke and ashes gently ascended into the setting sun, as if becoming one with the clouds that speckled and streaked the red evening sky.

Once the burning of their fallen enemies ceased, the Shimada brothers escorted each Overwatch member to the guest apartments, just outside of the Shimada gates. Hanzo brought the last of the group to their quarters, who just happened to be Jack, Lena, and Alejandra. Lena had already been shown her room, but insisted on accompanying the other three. They approached the final room at the end of the hall.

"This shall be your quarters, Commander," Hanzo said, plainly, opening the sliding door revealing a simple, yet oddly charming bedroom.

On one end stood a tall wardrobe with dragon carvings up and down its side. On the other, a simple bed with cream colored sheets. A window at the far end of the room let in the soft moonlight for just a moment before Hanzo flipped the light switch.

Jack admitted to himself it wasn't the most secure location, but he was grateful for the Shimada leader offering this place to them all. Besides, it was just a temporary spot. They wouldn't be here for long.

"Thanks, Hanz'. It means a lot," he said, stepping into the room.

Hanzo made a soft grimace at the shortening of his name, not particularly caring for how Morrison used it, but knew the man meant no disrespect, and shook it off.

Jack paused for a moment and turned slightly to face the archer, arms across his chest. He thought back on the power he had just witnessed by Hanzo and Genji. It intrigued him… and scared him.

"I worked with Genji for ten years," he began, "I never knew he had that kind of power,"

Hanzo just shrugged.

"It is not something to be taken lightly. Only to be used when necessary. I guess he never found a time when it would be useful," Hanzo replied.

Morrison would beg to differ. There were many times when a giant glowing spirit dragon would have come in handy. But, there would be not point in arguing, really. It was too long ago to even matter now. He would just keep that power in mind for future reference

"Um, excuse me, señor Shimada," Alejandra spoke up, "I didn't get a room..."

Hanzo's eyes widened, realizing the error of his ways.

"Alejandra! How could I be so careless. Although… it seems we have just run out of rooms..." he said, regrettably.

"That's alright, love," Lena said, stepping forward, "You take my room. I'll sleep with Jack- I-I mean, sleep in the same room… with Jack," She blushed a deep red, scratching the back of her head.

Alejandra and Hanzo side glanced each other through the corners of their eyes. They knew what was up.

"Very well," Hanzo said, holding back a smirk, "You remember where Lena Sama's room is, Alejandra?"

The young girl nodded and headed down the hall, out of the building. She had other matters to attend to. After bidding the other two goodnight, Hanzo departed as well. It was just Lena and Jack now, alone.

The two entered the room, Jack beginning to remove his armor and setting it inside the wardrobe. Lena took off her gauntlets, goggles, and aviator jacket, setting them against the wardrobe. Overall, not much was said. It was kind of an awkward silence. They haven't been alone like this in a long while. But silence can be a soldier's greatest weakness. It gives a soldier time to think. Right now, Jack wasn't thinking about anything good.

"Lena…" he said suddenly.

The pilot turned to look at Jack, his eyes looking down at his shining blue gauntlets and chest piece, sitting contently inside the dragon wardrobe. He was feeling it again, the sense of powerlessness against overwhelming odds. Here they were, pushed back into the small estate of a former Japanese black market dealer. How can they compete?

"Do you think we can do this? Do you think we can win?" he asked her, not looking away from the old armor.

Lena could hear the doubt in his voice, the frustration, the fear. She understood why he would think that, but she never thought it'd be her giving him the pep talk.

"Jack," she began, "in all my years of working with you, not once have I ever heard you say those words, because you always knew that we could do it; that we would do it," she put a slender hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to face her.

"What do you think, love?" she asked, softly.

Jack sighed. What did he think? He kept flopping back and forth between confidence and weakness. Why was he so indecisive?

"I want to lead you… all of you, but I don't want to lose any of you, either. We've already lost so much… so many. Ana, Mei, everyone. Those who are still alive are scattered only God knows where. And we're outnumbered one hundred to one. How do we fight those odds?"

Lena looked deep into Jack's eyes with a tenderness that he knew all too well. He knew what she was about to say, but he needed to hear it, to reassure himself, to make sure no one else had lost hope.

"Together," she said, "What happened to Mei… we couldn't do anything about it. We weren't there, Jack. But we can make sure it never happens again. And the others. Once they see what we're doing, they'll come back. They'll find us, I'm sure of it. But until then, we gotta stick together. You won't lose us, I swear,"

Jack sighed, feeling a small wave of relief overcome him. That's what he needed to hear, who he needed to hear it from.

"Thanks, Ley. Needed that," he turned back to the wardrobe and pulled off his blue coat, and hung it up.

From behind, Morrison felt two thin, lean arms wrap around him. Lena squeezed him close to her, her chronal accelerator digging into his back. He didn't mind it, though. It had become a part of her, anyways.

"Don't worry, love," she said, pressing her cheek against his back, "We're gonna get through this. You're not doin' this alone, you know,"

Jack couldn't help but smile and turned around to face Lena. Hazel eyes met blue eyes. Lena's arms wrapped firmly around Jack's waist. Heat built up inside of their chests. They longed for something they haven't had in years. They missed each other and they were right there, in front of one another. Jack brought his hands up to her face and cupped her cheeks in his hands, leaned down, and pressed his lips against hers.

The heat turned to a raging fire at that moment as Jack lifted Lena off of the ground in his arms, pressing her against him. She gasped and giggled, remembering their past, loving that it was all coming back. Her heart beat fast and hard, not wanting this moment to end. She leaned towards his ear and whispered.

"Feeling spry, Jack?" she kissed his neck, holding his shoulders tightly.

Jack smirked, "Gets better with age,"

"Oh, get this damn unitard off me," Lena huffed, impatiently.

The unitard wasn't the only thing that came off that night.

XXXX

Alejandra didn't sleep, couldn't sleep. She needed more answers. Reyes was alive? He was Reaper? Was her theory correct? Could she find the truth? She needed to. All these thoughts swarmed in her head, like locusts around a field of crops. There was only one person she knew that could help her right now. Well, maybe not a person, but a scientist.

She made her way back into the Shimada court yard where the dropship still remained, lights on and ramp lowered. She suspected that Winston would still be awake. However, while walking up the ramp, she could hear the sound of heavy, guttural snoring. Still, she crept up the ramp.

Sure enough, when she entered the large dropship, she saw a large figure, clad in white and gray armor, slouched over a desk, his massive back rising and falling with every snore. Alejandra didn't really want to wake Winston up, but the choice was taken out of her hands.

"Winston," chirped the digital voice of Athena, "you have a guest,"

Winston shot up immediately, shaking his head to wake himself up.

"Huh? What? Where?" He spun in his chair to face the young girl behind him, "Ah, Alejandra. So sorry, it has been a long day," He said, scratching the back of his head, "What can I do for you?"

Alejandra bit her lip, nervously.

"So sorry, señor Winston. I didn't mean to wake you up. I just needed to find more proof,"

"Ah, of your theory, yes, I remember," Winston said, pushing his glasses farther up his nose, "Jack told me about how you hacked into my computer back at Gibraltar," he said with a smirk and a shake of his head, "I must say, your skills are very impressive,"

Alejandra blushed with embarrassment. Jack told him that? Seriously? She wouldn't be sharing any more secrets with him, any time soon. But, it didn't matter. He didn't seem to be upset. She got straight to business.

"The computer I was looking through had a folder under Gabriel Reyes' file. It was classified and password protected. Jack and I couldn't get in. I was wondering if you knew what was in that folder," she asked, straight forwardly.

Winston stroked his chin, trying to remember the file Alejandra was talking about. He came up blank.

"I can't say I know the specifics. But, what kind of scientist would I be if I didn't keep twenty five different backup files on twenty five external hard drives?" he said, knuckle walking his way over to the holotable at the other end of the room.

Alejandra's heart skipped a beat.

"You have it, here?" she exclaimed, following Winston.

The scientist chuckled, "I back up everything anywhere I can back it up on. Athena, pull up Gabriel's file, please. Keyword, 'classified',"

After a split second, a hologram of a screen, that looked just like the one Alejandra was browsing through on the Gibraltar computer, popped up over the holotable. One folder was highlighted and flashing; the same one she was trying to get into the other day.

"That's it," she said, walking closer to the table.

Winston tapped the hologram of the folder, bringing up a password protected screen, the cursor mocking them with every blink, knowing they didn't know the code. Winston held his chin in his hand, staring intently at the screen. He couldn't imagine what the password could be.

"I can't figure this out, Ali. But, if what the commander told me was true, perhaps you can work your way around this little road block," he suggested, gesturing her towards the front of the table.

Alejandra couldn't believe it. Winston was letting her work the holotable?! She might be the first kid to ever touch one of these things! She was so excited, she was trembling as she approached the complex piece of technology.

A hologram of a keyboard and mouse popped up in front of her, courtesy of Athena. With that, she began to work her magic. Putting that studying time to good use, Alejandra gathered everything she learned to the moment; working her way to find the path, realizing that wasn't working, then opening the port itself, instead. A series of zeroes and ones popped up on the screen. Time to crack the password. This wouldn't be easy. It was a United Nations type file, naturally, so the password wouldn't be something obvious.

She used every method she had studied; dictionary attack, spidering, rainbow table, none of those worked. Alejandra decided it was time to go for brute force. Typing in the necessary functions and keys, she attacked the ones and zeroes until a series of them flashed red. She isolated the word. Perfect. Now she just needed to turn those ones and zeroes into actual characters. Typing in the right algorithms, the binary code began to change. Each number scrolled through the letters of the alphabet until they hit the right character, like a rapid spinning slot machine. Finally, the word flashed before them.

It was a puzzling word. It didn't seem to make sense, at least, to Winston.

"… Sombra…" he said, staring at the hologram, "What does that mean?"

"It's Spanish for 'shadow'," Alejandra replied, "but I have no idea why that's the password. Doesn't matter though. What matters is that we got in,"

She moved the word into the password protected box and hit the enter key. The hologram changed, revealing two separate video files. Alejandra's heart was beating hard in her small chest, eager to see what was so important that it needed to be so heavily protected. She clicked on the first video.

The hologram displayed home footage of a young boy, running and laughing in and out of frame. He was being chased by a man in a black hoodie and beanie, who was laughing heartily as well.

"I'm gonna getcha! I'm gonna getcha!"

"Hahaha! No, papa! Hahah!"

A woman's voice, from behind the camera, giggled at the heart warming sight. Eventually, the man caught the boy and lifted him from the ground, hugged him close, and noogied him. The boy laughed hard, trying to squirm his way out of the man's arms.

"Papa! Hahahah!" the boy exclaimed.

The camera panned up slightly, showing the man's face. Gabriel Reyes held his son close to him, the former zerberting the boy's cheek. The boy finally pushed from Reyes' grasp, trying to catch his breath from laughing. Then he ran towards the camera lady.

"Mama! Mama! I wanna hold the camera!" said the boy.

The next moment, Alejandra saw the pregnant body of a woman next to the body of Gabriel, arms around each other. The camera panned up. There was no denying it now. Next to the former Blackwatch leader stood Alejandra's mother, smiling and kissing him.

Alejandra's eyes were wider than the full moon overhead. Her heart felt like it was going to beat itself out of her chest. She had her proof. Her mother standing right next to Gabriel. He was her father! And he was still alive! The video kept playing.

"And how is little Alejandra doing?" Reyes asked, taking a knee to inspect the roundness of Alexandria's belly.

At that point, the video cut, bringing them back to the screen with the two video files. Alejandra was stunned, not being able to take her eyes away from the screen. Winston was equally intrigued. Reyes never told anyone that he had a family. But one question remained: why did he turn against Overwatch?

"Oh Dios mio!" Alejandra screamed, "I was right! Gabriel, he's my father! And- and I have a brother?! Where is he? What happened to him?! Winston! We have to find-"

"Alejandra, wait, wait," Winston put a hand on her shoulder, "There's one more video. Let's take a look,"

He tapped the icon of the video and it flashed to full screen. The footage was completely different from the first video.

Four people were present in a dimly lit room; Gabriel, Alexandria, their son, and man in a coat and wide brimmed hat, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. The family was tied to chairs all around a table at the center of the room. A bag was put over Alexandria's and the son's heads, but Reyes' was uncovered. The soft whimpering of both bagged victims could be heard, begging the man to release them. Their pleads were not met with compliance. The man in the coat and hat spoke up in a southern accent.

"Now, I'm going to be honest. Patience isn't my strong suit. So I suggest you tell me what I want, when I want to hear it. You and your Overwatch buddies gave me and mah boys a lotta trouble a few years back. I intend to return the favor. Now," he slammed his hands against the table, "Where are mah weapons!?" he yelled.

"I told you!" Reyes shot back, "I have no idea what you're talking about! I don't work for Overwatch! Just let us go, el cabrón!"

The man in the coat shook his head. Revolver in hand, he walked over to the son.

"Hey, hey!" Reyes yelled, "Stay away from my son!"

The words were not headed. Once next to him, the man in the coat swiftly drew his weapon and fired. A loud crack resonated throughout the room, followed by the screeching and crying of Alexandria.

"No!" Reyes screamed, trying to break free from his restraints, to no avail. He hadn't received the enhancements like Jack had. He was one hundred percent human, the strength of a normal man; helpless in this situation.

The coated man leveled his gun at the abdomen of Alexandria next.

"Talk! Or your baby is next! Like I said, patience isn't mah strong suit!" he yelled.

Gabriel was defeated. He couldn't fight this. He just lost his son, he wouldn't lose his daughter and his wife.

"Okay… okay… I'll talk…," he said, regretting every word, "The weapons… they're,"

He never finished that sentence. The wall opposite Reyes exploded inwards, bits and pieces of rubble flew into the room, followed by a high powered sniper shot going straight through the coated man's cranium. Through the smoke walked in Talon soldiers and, in between them all, Widowmaker.

The cold blooded markswoman pointed towards the remaining captives.

"Grab them. If any of you hurt one hair on either of them, I will put a bullet through each of your vital organs," she ordered.

The rest of the family was moved from their seats and the video cut to black.

Both Alejandra and Winston were not ready for that. Tears were welling up in Alejandra's eyes. Waves of anguish rolled over her like tidal waves. Weights of anger dropped down on her like anvils from fifty thousand feet. Her brother, murdered by some no good criminal. Her father taken by Talon and turned into a monster. And her mother, killed by Los Muertos. Everything was taken from her. She didn't care why, or when. She just cared about who to repay the favor to. She just cared about revenge.

"Winston," she said, clenching her fists, "Who was that man… who killed my brother?"

Winston took a moment to recollect the face. He knew he saw him before.

"Jonathan McFly. Former leader of the Deadlock Gang. We were wondering what happened to him ever since Gabriel shut down his operation… Guess we found out," Winston replied.

"Is the Deadlock Gang still active?" Alejandra asked through clenched teeth.

Winston cleared his throat, "There are rumors that Deadlock have been pooling their resources again, getting ready for something big. The United Nations have been looking into it, but, other than that, I have nothing concrete for you…"

Winston didn't like where this was going. He didn't want this sweet little girl to be hell bent on revenge. But, something told him not even Heaven and Hell, if such places even existed, could hold back this girl.

Anger boiled up inside of Alejandra's stomach. She knew she couldn't do anything to the man she just saw kill her brother, but she'd make sure the group he was part of stayed in the ground for good. She felt the lust for bloodshed climb up inside her, wanting to break free, wanting to rid itself from her body and unleash upon those who had wronged her.

Through balled up fists and dripping tears, Alejandra spoke proudly.

"I have three enemies on three different fronts: Deadlock, Los Muertos, and Talon. Each of them took something from me," She turned to face the scientist, eyes poised with vengeful determination, "I lost my brother and my mother. But I will get my father back! Winston, promise me you'll help me. Promise me that Overwatch will get my father back,"

Winston looked into the brown eyes that begged for help, the eyes that shot through his glasses and into his soul. The eyes that could make an entire army retreat. He wouldn't refuse her request, couldn't refuse her request. But something told him that Gabriel was just as lost as the rest of her family. He leaned down to her eye level and removed his glasses.

"Ali, we will do what we can. That is all I can promise,"

Alejandra sighed and turned her eyes away from Winston. She knew that _was_ all he could promise, but it wasn't the promise she was looking for. She was impatient, angry, and needed more than just words.

"… Gracias, Winston,"

She turned on her heal and began to head down the dropship ramp, but stopped for a moment.

"Can you… save those files on a USB for me, or something, por favor?" she asked, turning her head to look back at the scientist.

Winston turned one side of his mouth upward and nodded, saying nothing more.

Alejandra returned the smile and walked down the ramp. She needed to find McCree. He never did give her gun to her.

XXXX

Short chapter. I know. Sorry. But I got college now hahah. Just happy I could get this out. Hope this chapter is worth it to you all! And since I know a lot of you also have school, I won't be expecting a lot of reviews and comments. But if you can, please leave a comment/ critique! You know that is the true motivator to getting this story out to you guys! I'm so happy I can provide entertainment to you all! And if you want to talk more about the story, feel free to PM me any time! I'm open to chatting about it or just Overwatch in general! Have a good one! Buh Bye!


	12. Chapter 10

Sooo a few updates. Grandmother passed away, so we are working on a wake for her. Chapters will definitely be delayed from that. Gotta be there for my family, you know. Um, I'm changing my major! Not gonna be an artist anymore. I found out my true passion in a business standpoint is… writing! Haha! So thank you all for making me realize what I really want to do for a career. I'm dead serious right now. Writing this story made me realize I see writing as a better career choice. Because I actually want to give my stories out to the public. So, thank you, all of you, for reading this story and giving me feedback. You guys helped me, so, thank you! Anyway. here's the chapter.

XXXX

Where should it go? Where would it go? How would it get there? All these questions went through Ganymede's mind as it watched the Bastion, sitting comfortably in the nest he had built upon the robot's mechanical shoulder. 'What an odd device,' Ganymede said to himself. The Bastion was unlike anything Ganymede had ever seen before. A sentry of metal and wires and LED's, happily humming and beeping to itself as it lumbered its way around the forest of Ilios. Though the metal plating was cold and almost unforgiving, Ganymede felt a protective comfort from the Bastion's presence, as if the robot was his guardian, his home.

Ever since its awakening, Ganymede had remained with the Bastion for years, not knowing where it would take him. He only knew that his home was now mobile and that he'd have to get used to fixing his nest every once in a while.

During the pair's journey, they came across other animals of the Ilios forests, many of which Ganymede knew; the ever faithful squirrels, the mischievous parrots, the thieving raccoons, and the timid butterflies. And with every encounter, the Bastion would take its time inspecting them, interacting with them. To Ganymede, it seemed like he was forming a bond with the animals.

'But how can that be?', Ganymede asked himself, 'A man made machine, bonding with nature?'.

However, he realized that there are some things you shouldn't question. Nature had a way of manipulating those that enter it. Perhaps a Bastion was no exception. Besides, he had already built his nest upon the machine's shoulder, so it did not seem strange that the other creatures of Ilios would feel the same attraction that Ganymede had.

The flowers and moss which had overtaken the Bastion did not just attract the timid butterflies, but the bees and moths as well; Ganymede's favorite prey.

As the smaller insects buzzed and zipped their way towards the flowers, blinded by the bright colors and the scent of pollen, Ganymede would happily snatch a moth out of the air, crushing it in his beak, reveling in the feast that the Bastion brought to him. Eventually, however, the Bastion lumbered out of the forest, towards civilization. It seemed, to Ganymede, that the Bastion had set a new course. He didn't have to go with the robot. Ganymede could fly back into the forest and stay there, in his own territory, in his home. But something, some innate feeling was telling the small bird to stay with this machine, stay in the nest he had carefully constructed on its shoulder, to just stay with Bastion.

Yes, Bastion. It was easier to call it that than 'The Bastion'. Happy with his decision, Ganymede nestled itself deep inside his nest, feeling the steady thumping of Bastion's footsteps as it hobbled down the forest hill, into the small town below, over looking the coast. Where should it go? Where would it go? How would it get there? Ganymede let the questions fade away and decided to let nature take its course.

XXXX

How long had it been since they've done that? Fifteen, twenty years? However long it had been, it sure felt damn good to do it again.

Lena had collapsed right beside Jack, exhausted from the rigorous physical activity that they had completed. Their muscles ached, their bodies glistened with sweat, chests rose and fell heavily with each breath they took.

She had longed for that touch again for years and she soaked in every second of it. Even in his older age, Jack still knew how to handle her. He may have even gotten better! Perhaps it did get better with age.

The only thing that actually was bothersome about their moment was the fact she still had to wear the damn chronal accelerator, just to keep her in this plane of existence. But overall, it didn't matter. What mattered was that Jack was here, with her.

Laying on her stomach, beside him, Lena placed her hand upon Jack's bare chest. Long deep scars ran down his body, no doubt from the explosion at the Swiss base. She couldn't help but slowly pull her fingers along the contour of one of them, feeling the texture, imagining the pain he must have felt. His skin was still youthful from the serum the UN pumped into him, but the scar, the scar was just a reminder of how mortal Jack still was.

Lena felt Jack's arm come around her, softly running his thick fingers through her hair. She loved it when he did that. Something about it made her skin crawl with joy. Still keeping her fingers on the scar, she nestled closer into his body, feeling his warmth with hers. The scars. So many scars. Along his chest, his ribs, his abdomen, his legs.

She had to know. She had to know what happened that day, when she thought she lost him. She took a breath, let it out, and spoke.

"Jack,"

"Mm?" he mumbled, keeping his fingers in her hair.

"Tell me, what happened that day? How'd you get out of there, love?"

Jack paused for a moment. He didn't want to remember the worst day of his life. The fight between him and Reyes, the slaughter of Overwatch agents by the members of Blackwatch. Rookies he was going to train that very day, gunned down by armed professionals. They never stood a chance. Then, the explosion. He didn't see it coming. He didn't even think Reyes saw it coming. Why blow up the base with him still inside it? Granted, he was still alive to this day, but why risk it? There were other forces outside of Blackwatch that day. Maybe it was Talon, maybe someone completely different. They'd get to the bottom of it and they'd make them pay. But for now, he wanted his peace, with Lena.

"I… don't want to think about it right now, okay, Ley? I'll tell you another time…" he said, looking down at her big brown puppy eyes.

He hated holding information from her, but this time, he just couldn't bring himself to pull the memories to the front. Not tonight. Any night but tonight.

"Let's just enjoy this while it lasts," he said, giving a soft smile.

Lena sighed. It wasn't like Jack to not talk to her. She wished he'd be more open about it, but it was his right to talk or not. She let it go, for now.

"Alright… I hear ya," she said, cuddling closer into his side.

The cool casing of the chronal accelerator pressed up against Jack's oblique, giving him tiny goosebumps. He would much prefer to feel the smooth warm skin of the woman next to him, not the shell of the thing that kept her in this time line. But, he was grateful for the moment they were sharing, and would do anything to keep it this way for as long as possible.

But, he was a soldier with a mission; they all were, and they were going to see that mission completed.

"Okay, let's get some sleep, now," he said, sitting up and getting off the bed, making his way to the light switch.

Lena watched as his nude chiseled body strode across the room. It had been a while since she'd seen him like this, and she let her eyes soak up every bit of it.

Just as Jack was about to hit the lights, however, their sliding door slid open, revealing an over excited Brigitte, completely oblivious to the situation.

"Commander! I think I have the answer to our base problem! Quick! Let me show yo-" Brigitte's eyes caught the bare figures of Jack Morrison and Lena Oxton, who both stared at her with unamused 'really?' faces. She realized exactly what she had just walked in on.

"Oh… um… We'll talk tomorrow," Said the crusader's companion, and quickly shut the sliding door.

Jack looked back at Lena and, after a brief pause, the two snickered at the situation. Jack then shut the lights off and crawled back into bed, holding the pilot close to him, not minding the chronal accelerator, this time.

XXXX

The moon shown brightly in the darkness of the night, illuminating the patio which Angela Ziegler stood on. The patio she stood upon had scars of a previous battle, no doubt fought by the Shimada brothers; the railing was broken and splintered, an arrow, perfectly split down the middle, stuck out of the wooden floor boards.

The air was calm and cool, with the slightest of breezes gently brushing up against her, making her blonde hair sway like a collection of soft feathers in the wind. Her bright blue eyes reflected the light of the moon as she stared up at it, soaking in its perfection.

'Unlike me…' she thought to herself, 'Unlike any human,'

Her mind wandered back to Reaper, how he had revealed himself as Reyes, this whole time. Was that what Talon had her do, after the Switzerland attack? Did they make her turn him into that… thing… that monster? She didn't know it was him. They kept it a secret from her. If she had known who she was operating on…. Who they made her experiment on…

"Forgive me… Gabriel…" she whispered to herself.

"Can't sleep?"

The voice gave Angela a jump, prompting her to turn and see who had snuck up on her.

Hanzo walked up beside her, a kind of welcoming but forced smile on his face. Angela couldn't say that she was surprised to see him, she was in his home after all, but his sudden entrance did startle her. Nevertheless, his presence did calm her and she was grateful that he took the time to approach her.

He seemed like a man of great respect and honor, in Angela's eyes. But she could tell, just by looking at him, that he had gone through pain. Yes, so much pain. The pain of guilt. The pain that you tell yourself you've healed, but deep down, it lingers. It sticks like the puss of an infection that won't go away. It was the pain that she was feeling right now; the pain she wanted to get rid of. She smiled back at the archer.

"Oh, good evening, Hanzo," Angela replied, "Just… too much excitement today,"

The archer gave a soft chuckle and leaned against the wooden support pillar, arms folded across his half covered chest.

"Which is why it is surprising to see you up," he said, "You of all people deserve the most rest, always taking care of your allies,"

Angela shrugged and turned back to the moon, her troubled mind bouncing back and forth between guilt and Hanzo.

Hanzo saw the trouble in her eyes, the way she stared at the moon, the rising and falling of her chest, the way she grabbed her arms across her breasts. It reminded him of himself, reminded him of how he would stare at the moon, wondering why he had done the things he had done. The confusion, the frustration, the pain. But, for him, the pain was gone, laid to rest. He had made peace with the past. What ever was bothering Angela, he wanted to help her through it. It was the least he could do for her, after all she had done for him and his brother

"Something is troubling you," he said, keeping his eyes fixated on hers.

She tilted one end of her lips upward, not turning her head from the moon.

"What gave you that idea?" she asked, not wanting to admit it.

That's exactly what he would say, and Hanzo knew it. She wouldn't open up willingly, but he had to at least let her know what she needed to do.

"No one looks up at the moon, the way you do, if everything is as it should be," he replied.

Angela still did not avert her eyes from the white of the moon. Her gaze was fixated upon it like a moth to a light, but she heard Hanzo's words. It comforted her, knowing he wanted to talk to her, but this wasn't something she wanted to open up about, not yet anyway. Something held her back. Perhaps it was the guilt? The fear of her friends pushing her away? She didn't want that. She loved her friends, devoted her life to ensuring their safety and health. But what good would it do them to not tell them the truth? She didn't even know where to begin.

"Angela," Hanzo said, firmly but kindly.

The way he said her name drew her to turn her head and face him, blue eyes meeting brown. Their eyes locked for a moment, as if the two of them were two new moons, their gravitational pull tugging on each other.

"Please," Hanzo continued, "if you will not tell me, tell someone else. What ever wounds you have inflicted upon yourself, you must heal them,"

Angela saw the truth in those words and would hold onto them, for a long time. She couldn't bring herself to tell this man. But something told her she should, something deep in the darkest parts of her mind, her soul. But she didn't. She couldn't. Not right now anyway. This was something her team had to hear about first, when she was ready to tell them.

"Don't take it personally, Hanzo," she said, finally, "But this is an Overwatch matter,"

With a smile and a wave of the hand, Hanzo gestured that he understood completely.

"How can I take it personally? We just met two days ago," He said, reassuringly.

'Yes, Angela,' he said to himself, 'talk with your friends, let the pain out. That's he only way to heal,'

The doctor nodded and smiled, grateful that the archer had come to see her.

"Danke," she said, and turned to look at the moon once again.

Hanzo joined her in the moon gazing, taking in the white light, the curvature of the rock which illuminated the night sky, the simple perfection. For a moment, they stood there in peaceful silence, taking in the night, feeling it put their minds at ease, especially Angela's. She was certain that everyone here, in Shimada castle, would want nothing more than for a night like this to be every single night, for the rest of their lives.

Angela rubbed her eyes and yawned, feeling the exhaustion of the day creep up on her. She didn't want to admit it, but Hanzo was right; she did need her rest. Too much had happened in the past two days, and she didn't even get any sleep for either of those days. She was good at taking care of others, but was even better at neglecting herself, when she needed it the most.

"Well, I believe it is time for me to retire," she said, reaching up to stretch her sore body, "My thanks, again. Guten Nacht,"

Angela gave a soft smile and walked towards the patio exit. Before she walked past the door, she took one last look at Hanzo, who watched as she walked away. She admired the man. After a long history of guilt and wrongdoing, he searched for redemption and he found it. He seemed at peace with himself. Maybe _he_ was the key to finding peace with _herself_. She would take more time to think on it later. For now, she needed sleep. Angela gave him another smile and disappeared behind the wall.

Hanzo watched as she left him to himself, on the patio where he and Genji had fought for the last time. He wished Angela had opened up to him. He wanted to tell her that he would be there for her if she needed, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Something tugged on the inclination to do so, like a boa constrictor tugging and wrapping around its prey.

He was drawn to Angela; something about her relaxed him, made him feel like there was genuine good in the world. But what ever was troubling her threatened that goodness, like it had done to him for many years. All Hanzo hoped was that she'd find peace soon, whether from her team, or him.

It was then that he sensed a presence, the kind you only sense if you have lived with the person your entire life.

"How long have you been hiding there, Genji?" Hanzo asked, turning to face his brother, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

The cyborg ninja shifted from his position, high on the support beams, and strode towards his brother, his green LED's pulsating a soft emerald glow.

"Long enough," Genji replied, standing by Hanzo's side, "So, you have your eyes set on the doctor?" he asked, teasingly nudging his brother's arm with his elbow.

The red of embarrassment crept up in Hanzo's cheeks. As always, Genji saw right through Hanzo like a ziplock bag. However, he was not going to admit it so easily.

"And what gave you that idea?" Hanzo asked, glancing over to his brother.

Genji replied with a short laugh and playfully nudged Hanzo's shoulder with his finger.

"You like her!" he teased, continuously poking his brother's arm.

Hanzo stood his ground and shrugged off Genji's onslaught of pokes.

"You are a thirty five year old man, start acting like one," Hanzo replied, smiling, seeing the playful nature of his younger brother coming back.

How long had it been since they had spoken about women; fifteen, twenty years? Hanzo recollected it was always Genji who would have the attention of every girl around him, even spouses of other men. Likewise, it was not uncommon to see Genji with more than one woman at a time.

Hanzo, however was the hopeless romantic. He was always concerned about finding the right girl; getting lucky with some, unlucky with others. None of them ever stayed, but that didn't deter Hanzo. He'd just let fate decide, like an ever running river; with each new path branching off into a different lake.

"And what of you?" The archer asked the cyborg, "Anyone you've set eyes on?"

Genji chuckled and folded his arms across his metallic chest.

"During my time in Overwatch, I did have some intimate moments with a handful of wonderful women. However, as of now, no. No one," Genji replied.

"Tried reconnecting with anyone?" Hanzo asked, "Like those two girls you met that one summer. Um… Mika and Kanae?"

Genji laughed at the idea of reconnecting with old flames.

"Those two are off doing who knows what with who knows who, no doubt," he replied, shaking his head in memory.

Hanzo stroked the length of his finely trimmed beard, thinking of other girls Genji had courted. There were so many that he got names and faces mixed up all the time.

"Ah, what of Tamaki? You two had quite the history," he recollected, snapping his fingers.

"Tamaki…" Genji paused, "… has moved on to greener pastures. Besides, I was never a good influence on her,"

Hanzo couldn't say he remembered what Genji was talking about, but he silently agreed with him.

For a moment, they stood there in silence, their gazes upon the full moon, its light bathing them in the cold of the night. Genji glanced at his brother, who did not avert his eyes from the white orb before them. The younger brother was not the only one who had gone through a transformation. He saw how much his brother had changed, in just one glance. The fight they had nineteen years ago had changed both of them. Though he said he had made peace, Hanzo still seemed distant to his brother, like he was still searching for something more than redemption. He also seemed far more mature and wise than he did, all those years ago. Yes, his trials and endeavors had hardened his brother's soft shell, turned him into a man, albeit a troubled man, but a man nonetheless.

A few more minutes of silent moon gazing had passed, until Hanzo finally spoke.

"One of us needs to produce at least two new heirs, before our time comes, to continue our family's blood line," he said, suddenly.

This caught Genji off guard, though they were just talking about spouses a moment ago.

"Indeed," he replied, "though I'm certain it will be you who will get that honor,"

Hanzo gave a small huff, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He didn't see that happening any time soon. Sure, he had attractions towards Angela, but romancing women was something he had become quite rusty at. Still, something troubled Hanzo, about his brother. He couldn't help but let his curiosity get the better of him. He had to know, for the benefit of their bloodline.

"Um, Genji, if you do not mind my asking… can you still- um…"

Genji turned his head to face his brother, and gave it a slight tilt, not grasping Hanzo's unfinished question.

"What?" he asked.

"You know…" Hanzo replied, hesitantly.

The resistance in Hanzo's speech was beginning to aggravate the ninja. His gears were literally grinding by this point.

"No, I don't. Just spit it out," he ordered.

Hanzo did not say another word, but only held up his fist, and erected his index finger. Genji understood immediately.

"…" pressing his palm against his face plate, Genji asked, "Is that really a question that needs answering?"

"Well, I don't know!" Hanzo replied, "How else am I supposed to find out of you can-"

"Yes," Genji interrupted, a twinge of dumbfounded frustration in his voice, "I can still procreate,"

"Ah," Hanzo replied, a small wave of relief washing over him, "Good, good,"

Genji just shook his head and turned back to face the moon, honestly wanting nothing more but silence but this point. Perhaps less than a minute passed before the silence was perturbed.

"… But how do you get it out?" Hanzo asked.

"Oh my God!"

XXXX

It took it a while, but Bastion finally made its way down the steep hilly forests of Ilios into the quiet, calm suburbia of the town below. The town seemed relatively abandoned, almost decrepit. Broken buildings and rubble and bullet holes caked Bastion's surroundings. Twisted skeletons of metal and circuits reached for the sky, silent and still and dead. Nothing moved but the live Bastion unit and his fledged compatriot.

Bastion scanned its surroundings, searching for signs of, well, anything. This place seemed so lost to the devastation that had conquered it, Bastion doubted anything was still alive, unlike the forest it had just left, teaming with ever lasting life.

Still, this town seemed familiar to it, like it had been here before, experienced what this town had gone through. It could feel something lurking in the back of its central processing unit, popping like sparks, trying to inch its was through Bastion's mother board. Bastion could almost feel the image play in its mind, like a memory stored deep down in a data bank it did not want to open.

It stopped dead in its tracks, swerving its head from side to side, looking at the carnage of the town it stood in. Time seemed to freeze as Bastion heard the sounds of gunfire, screams, metal against stone, and then-

"Cheep Cheep Cheep Cheep Chirp!"

The noises instantly cut out of Bastion's head, snapping it back to the present. Bastion lifted its head to see Ganymede, happily flapping in place a few feet away from it. The bird's cheeps and chirps disrupted the memory from creeping into Bastion's CPU, putting the omnic back in a state of ignorant bliss.

Ganymede cheeped once more and flew down the decrepit town, making tiny, excited loops and dips every few seconds. Bastion followed suit, the sound of metal striking stone echoing with every step it took. The omnic did not particularly care where its feathered companion was taking it; it only wanted to explore more of this vast world that it had just woken up in, and Ganymede was its guide.

The Iliosian city resided on a cliff, with a slight slope leading down to the glimmering ocean below. The yellow bird led Bastion through the ruined city, keeping its mind off of the memories of the past, unintentionally, of course. Ganymede honestly had no idea what was going through the omnic's mind. All he knew was that he had to lead the machine out of the city, or they'd never get out.

An hour seemed to have gone by, as the pair made their way out of the city, to a large stone stairwell, bordered by towering pillars that seemed to just barely graze the atmosphere. Ganymede led Bastion down the stairs about a quarter of the way, before perching himself comfortably in his nest, confident that the omnic knew to continue going down the steps.

About half way down the steps, Bastion felt a sense of monotony creep up on it. It didn't like the constant droning of its own footsteps colliding against the stone stairwell. To disrupt the everlasting thudding, Bastion started to, in a mechanical fashion, sing.

"Dweet, dweet, dun, dun, boop, boop,"

To Ganymede, the digital humming was somewhat charming, so he happily joined Bastion, tweeting the same tune, as they descended the stairs.

When Bastion reached the bottom of the stairs, its audio receptors picked up something new, something other than the gentle lapping of the ocean before him.

"Are you sure we should be here?"

"Relax, honey. No one's been here for years. What, you think we're gonna get caught?"

"No, just, what if something is still out here?"

"What? Like a bastion? Pfft, If I see one, trust me, I'll kill it,"

The noises didn't make much sense to Bastion, they mostly came in inaudible and garbled, nothing coherent. Bastion surmised that its translation software was damaged; it would need to be repaired soon. Nonetheless, the omnic made its way towards the voices, prepared to meet what ever was making them.

Ganymede ruffled his feathers in anticipation, honestly not wanting to find the source of the voices, but decided to trust his mechanical friend's judgment.

Not fifteen feet away from the two of them, Bastion saw two humans, male and female, standing near the shoreline of the beach, making their way right towards him, oblivious to their surroundings. The two seemed to be in deep discussion, but of what, Bastion didn't know.

"Alright, if you say so," said the female.

"Hah!" exclaimed the male, "I knew you'd see it my wa-"

The male human stopped dead in his tracks, and looked forward. The female followed suit. Right in front of them, less than two feet away, stood the seven foot tall, armed to the teeth, over grown with nature, Bastion unit, a small bird in tow. The two humans stared at the fabled death machine, as it calmly stood in front of them, Ganymede contently sitting on its shoulder. The bright blue LED optic seemed to stare right into the two human's souls, as it remained motionless, almost lifeless; and yet, there it was, just looking at them.

Nothing moved, nothing stirred, not even a gust of wind disrupted the stillness of the four individuals, staring at each other. Until, finally, Bastion raised its hand, slowly, steadily, just so that the humans could hear the gears and the hinges grind against each other. Then, unexpectedly, it waved.

"Wee woo, wee woo!" it said.

"Wwwhaaaaaaa!" screamed the male human.

He grabbed the hand of his female companion and ran passed the omnic soldier, dragging her along the beach, and up the staircase which Bastion had just walked down. Bastion turned its head to watch as the duo ran up the stairs and out of its sight, and, simultaneously, out of mind. It tilted its head, not completely comprehending what it had just witnessed, but forgot about it soon after.

Turning back to face the ocean, Bastion could see just how vast it was. The sunlight glistened with tiny little sparks of light against the surface of the water. Little ripples along the ocean's face crawled like miniature waves, each having its own crash as the tide came in. But what intrigued Bastion, most of all, was the empty horizon. Just a straight line, cutting off all which hid behind it. What else was out there? What else would it find? Would there be more creatures of this world to meet, to befriend? How could it get there? All these question processed in Bastion's CPU. It wanted to know more, it longed to know more.

All Bastion had to do to answer the question of how was turn its head. The humans had left behind a simple yacht, loosely anchored to a rock on the beach. Bastion hummed with delight, and hobbled its way towards the aquatic vessel, and untethered it from the rock. Ganymede couldn't help but chirp along with the omnic, as they boarded the abandoned ship.

Upon entering the yacht, Bastion gently grasped the nest Ganymede sat in, and set it on a shelf, next to a framed picture of the human couple, posing in front of a golden rhinoceros. Bastion didn't want to take any chances of it falling off of its shoulder due to a strong wave, so it tucked the nest deep in the corner of the shelf. Ganymede felt slightly annoyed by the change of scenery, but couldn't do much to object other than a few irritated tweets.

Bastion then made its way to the control panel of the yacht, and, after pushing every button it saw, brought the vessel to life. Diodes and LED's shone brightly, while monitors and holographic keyboards sprung up from the dashboard. Bastion hummed in dazzled amazement at the display of lights, captivated by their colors and symbols. The center of the dashboard split open, allowing the steering and throttle mechanisms to reveal themselves to their new owner.

Bastion gave another delighted beep boop, and gripped the steering with its hand, and pushed the throttle with the barrel of its gun arm. The boat slowly lurched forward through the shallow water, accelerating steadily, pushing forward to the horizon.

Bastion honestly had no idea where it was going. All it did was look out into the horizon, and hold the throttle forward, watching, waiting, wondering what else was out there waiting for it. It didn't matter where it was going or what it would find. All Bastion wanted was to find more.

XXXX

UPDATE!:

Now, Yes yes, Bastion is supposed to be in Germany, I know. But, if y'all remember, I had made this story before than animation ever came out, so no other info was given to us about our favorite little death machine. I can't go back on my story and change it up right in the middle, but I'm going to do my best to get my story, and the lore of overwatch, on parallel tracks, eventually. So yes, Bastion will go to Germany. I hate lore breaking, and once I saw that Bastion was really in Eichenwalde, I was just like "O_o... -_- Fuck". Sorry! If only Blizzard released this info earlier, ahha.

Hurray! Another chapter! I'm so glad I got this one out. It was tough finding time between Homework to work on this, but I did. Once again, I'd like to thank each and every one of you, for following, favoriting (that isn't even a word, lol) and reviewing this story. I've worked on previous stories in the past on other sites, but none with the enthusiasm and following that this has. None of those other ones are finished, but I swear, this story will be finished, with the help of you guys. Please, don't forget to comment, critique, what ever insights you may have on this story. It is the currency that keeps this story going. Thank you all, for reading, as well! Without you all, this story would not be where it is now. Have a good one! I hope you enjoy this chapter! If not, tell me, and I will be sure to enhance my story telling based off of your guys' suggestions. Buh Bye!


	13. Chapter 11

I hope you all enjoyed the way I wrote Bastion. It isn't easy, writing about a robot, I mean, it isn't like it has a gender! I mean, haha, I don't wanna ASSUME anyone's gender in 2016 O_o. Anyway, Since I'm going to have a more relaxed semester soon, chapters will be a bit longer, like they used to. I'm trying to push some drama out of my life as well, and writing is a nice little cure, haha. For those of you not in college yet, you've got a lot to look forward to. So, without further a do, here is the chapter.

XXXX

Water dripped off the irregularities and crevices of the cavern walls, gingerly dropping into the moat around the platform, which Doomfist stood upon, silently scanning over the monitors in front of him.

The monitors. He had been staring at them for God knows how long. It seemed like an eternity was spent, lying in this cave, watching, waiting, wondering when the Iris would reveal itself to him. How fortunate was he, to have everything he needed fall into place when he had almost lost hope of ever avenging his father's death.

He stroked his chin, watching as the number of Omnic minds, slowly being processed through the Iris, increased, one by one. Yes, it would take time, years in fact, but he was willing to wait. There were more gears to set in motion, before anything else could be done. He'd preoccupy himself with that. He heard footsteps behind him. They had returned.

"Ah," he said, turning to face Reaper and Widowmaker, "welcome home,"

The duo stopped at the foot of the steps leading up to Doomfist's platform, not wanting to get any closer to their new boss.

"We did what you asked," Reaper reported, folding his arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket rubbing up against itself, making that all too familiar stretching noise that leather makes, "Talon is now under your complete control,"

"Good," replied Doomfist, a hint of satisfaction in his deep voice, "I expected nothing less from either of you. And you accomplished your mission, as I saw on the television,"

He gestured towards one of the monitors, displaying live news footage of the permanently decommissioned Watchpoint: Gibraltar. Doomfist continued.

"You've sent Overwatch crawling from their nest. Now they are scrambling to find a new one, no doubt, and we will burn that one down as well. There is no wall that they can hide behind. However, I am afraid to say that there will be no time to revel in our most recent victory,"

Behind his mask, Reaper rolled his eyes, expecting this.

"You've got something else for us to do?" he said, a twinge of subtle annoyance in his tone.

"Indeed, I do. The first time you went to Watchpoint Gibraltar, you were trying to obtain the locations of all the Overwatch agents, where you not?" Doomfist asked.

 _How the hell does he know that?_ Reaper asked himself. He decided not to ask the question, however. This man was his ticket to ending his curse. He'd listen obediently, for now.

"Yeah, what about it?" asked the hooded mercenary.

"I need you to finish what you had started," Doomfist replied, simply.

Reaper shook his head in disbelief, not understanding why Doomfist would ask him that.

"What are you talking about? You saw for yourself, the base was destroyed. Even if we went to all the other Watchpoints, the UN completely purged all the data from those facilities. There's no way to retrieve the information," Reaper rebutted.

"There are two Watchpoints that have remained untouched by the United Nations, forgotten due to the test of time," Doomfist replied, turning on his heal and approaching his monitors.

He pulled up a video feed of two places which Reaper was all too familiar with.

"The training grounds… and Eco Point: Antarctica..." Reaper responded, taking a few steps up to the platform.

"Yes," Doomfist said, "one hidden deep in the Himalayas. A place where fresh recruits and old veterans alike could hone their skills, test their abilities. It was used until the very last day of Overwatch's reign. And the other, the decommissioned ecological hide away for the late Mei. Either of these places could still have the information we seek. I want you to go there, and test our little theory,"

This was something that really bothered Reaper, for some reason. How did this guy find out about both locations? This was kept secret even from the President of the United States.

"How do you know these places even exists?" Reaper demanded an answer.

Doomfist faced Reaper, and curled one side of his mouth upward in a mocking smirk

"I have my eyes and ears in the United Nations. You'll meet them soon enough, and that is all you need to know. Don't forget who is doing you the biggest favor of your life, Gabriel,"

Reaper groaned under his breath, not appreciating being talked down to. However, he'd listen obediently if it meant ending this curse, if it meant being human again.

"Alright, fine. I'll go on your little scavenger hunt. Let's go, Widow," Reyes replied, turning on his heal to walk back to the ship.

Widowmaker motioned to follow, until Doomfist held up his hand, prompting her to stop.

"Actually," he interjected, "Amélie stays with me,"

The two assassins gave the towering man glances of confusion, then looked at each other in equal confusion. The pair hadn't split up ever since Widowmaker's assassination on Tekhartha Mondatta. Though they were not unaccustomed to doing jobs alone, it always felt awkward to split up every once in a while.

Reaper just shrugged it off, though. He was certain he could handle this assignment on his own. He knew the two locations in question were abandoned long ago. This would be a cake walk.

"Alright, fine. Goin' solo," he turned and headed down the walkway, back to the ship they had acquired, back at Talon HQ, "Catch you two later,"

After Reaper had left, Widow turned to face her new boss.

"And what mission would you have me carry out? Assassination? Reconnaissance? Both?" Her tone was cold and calculating, expecting him to say assassination, her personal favorite mission.

Doomfist just smiled at the anticipation of the sniper, amused at her eagerness to kill.

"Neither," he said, much to Widowmaker's surprise, "We are going to run an errand,"

Widowmaker was taken aback, raising one eyebrow in confusion.

"Quoi?" she asked, "What kind of errand?"

Giving a soft chuckle, Doomfist walked down the steps of his platform, and walked past the French assassin.

"Well, I was planning on having steak sirloin for dinner, with a side of potato salad with deviled eggs, but I seem to have run out of sirloin and potatoes. You're going to accompany me to the market,"

The absurdity of this mission puzzled Widowmaker. A grocery errand? The last time she ran an errand was when Gérard asked her to go fetch them duck for dinner. Right before Talon abducted her. Right before they took her, and beat her, and broke her, so that she could murder her own husband. She pushed the memory aside. That had nothing to do with the task at hand.

She followed Doomfist down the walkway towards a door on the left side of the cavern. The door split open upon their approach, revealing a long, seemingly endless hall, adorned with dozens upon dozens of portraits.

Each portrait depicted a person, each of African descent, bearing a gauntlet on one hand or the other, each one different from the last. Widow drew the conclusion that these were Doomfists of the past, each one passing the title down to their heir. There were even female Doomfists, something Widowmaker had never heard of.

"I thought the only Doomfists were the first three, including yourself," She stated, interested in learning more about her new boss's heritage.

"The moniker of Doomfist has been passed down for generations," Doomfist replied, as they walked down the hall, gazing upon every portrait which they walked by.

They did indeed span for generations. Widowmaker saw Doomfists from the 80's, 60's, 1800's. There was even one who fought in the American Revolution.

"It is said that the first Doomfist was a farmer named Ammon. He lived in ancient Egypt, during the time of the Pharaohs," Doomfist said. Widow listened intently, as they walked.

"But one day, his peaceful village was stormed by the Pharaoh's armies. The young and elderly were slaughtered, the women were taken, and the men were used as slaves, including Ammon. He was put to work, building limestone bricks for the pyramids of the self proclaimed god. Months passed, years passed, and Ammon's hatred for the Pharaoh grew with every month and every year. He had decided he had enough,"

The two stopped in front of another door, finally reaching the end of the hall, but Doomfist did not enter. He was determined to finish his story before continuing any further.

"He decided it was time to prove that even those chosen by gods could be bled. Every day, when he had the chance, he would go to work on a weapon that would prove just that. It took five years to complete it, but Ammon finally finished his weapon: a gauntlet, fashioned from the very same limestone used to build the pyramids.

One night, he evaded the watchful eyes of the Pharaoh's guardians, and snuck into the tyrant's quarters. He waited in the shadows, for his prey to lay his head upon his bed. And when the Pharaoh did so, Ammon attacked, bringing his gauntlet down upon the Pharaoh's face, crushing his skull in one fell swoop, the blood of his enemy staining his limestone fist. The next morning, Ammon displayed the headless body of the Pharaoh to the people of Egypt, to prove that even those chosen by the gods could be killed,"

Widowmaker honestly expected something a little more befitting of the Doomfist title, like if Ammon was the tyrant all along, ruling with an iron fist, or, in this case, a limestone fist. But, he was just a farmer turned slave, and slave turned revolutionary? Seemed like the classic hero story, if you asked her.

"Well, merci for the history lesson," She said, resting her hand on her hip, "But why did we walk down this way, in the first place?"

"Ah, forgive me. I forgot to mention," he replied, pressing his hand upon a palm scanner next to the double doors, "This is the wardrobe,"

The doors split open, revealing a massive walk in closet, rows upon rows of different articles of clothing hanging, just waiting to be tried on.

Widowmaker couldn't help but gawk, wide eyed at the sight, her legs instinctively pulling her inside the wardrobe. Her eyes darted left and right, examining each shirt and pants pair. One side of the closet held men's wear, while the other held women's.

"You have women's clothing?" she asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Doomfist.

A subtle look of melancholy crept up in his face, as Doomfist joined Widow inside the wardrobe.

"My mother's and sister's, before they passed," he clarified, simply.

"What happened to them?" Widow asked, almost coldly, not necessarily meaning to sound like that. It was just the way she spoke.

Doomfist was not so quick to answer this time, feeling the rock of anguish fall into his stomach. The memory of their deaths was not something he wanted to discuss, not now anyway.

After a brief pause, he released the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and smiled.

"Over dinner, I'll tell you,"

Widow just shrugged and accepted the answer, not bothering to probe any further. It wasn't that she understood the pain of loss, she just didn't care if he told her or not. She had just asked to learn more about her new boss.

If working with Sombra taught her anything (where ever the hell she was, right now, anyway) it was that knowledge is a powerful tool, regardless of what it was.

Doomfist gestured to his mother's and sister's clothes, prompting Widowmaker to start looking.

"Go on. Feel free to experiment,"

Most of the shirts, shorts, and dresses were bypassed, simply because they were not purple, or black, or blue. Most of them were woven with patterns of golds, and reds, and greens. However, when she did find something with one of her preferred colors, she immediately took it down and draped it over her arm. Doomfist found it rather amusing as he watched her pick out every single black, blue, and purple garb she could find, while he searched for his own public attire.

Widow wouldn't admit it, but something about the search for clothes seemed to entertain her, almost please her. She could feel a simple enjoyment creeping up inside her, without her even noticing. It just seemed to come to her so naturally. One corner of her mouth slowly curled upward, as a memory snuck in.

"I haven't looked for clothes like this ever since Gérar-…"

She realized what she was saying, what she was thinking, what she was feeling, and she tried to stop herself from continuing any further. Her brows furrowed together, not understanding why or how that memory found its way into her brain.

Gérard… she hadn't thought of that name for years. Why now? Why think of him after all this time? Her eyes cast downward and to the side, her shoulders slumped, her mind now being consumed with the memory of her husband, taking her on their first date, the biggest shopping spree of her life.

Doomfist noticed the sudden halt in her voice, and turned his head to see her, seemingly frozen. She just stood there, letting the memory flow through her mind. He could tell his strategy was working on her. He predicted she'd be the easiest to mold.

Widow stood still, feeling her heart beat faster in her chest as the memory played. She saw Gérard's smiling face, heard his contagious laugh, feel the warmth of his hand on her own. Feel? She didn't feel anything. She hadn't felt anything for years. What the hell was happening?

She shut her eyes and shook her head, knocking the thoughts, the feelings, the memory, out of her mind. Her programming kicked back in, and she felt nothing, not even the beating of her own heart.

Widowmaker had no idea how she started thinking of her late husband, all of a sudden, but she would not let it happen again. He was dead to her, both literally and figuratively.

"Let's just get this over with," she said, coldly.

She set the clothes she had selected on the floor and began to undress, slipping her one piece off her shoulders.

Doomfist couldn't help but stare for one full second before turning his head to face the row of clothes in front of him, not wanting to see her change. It wasn't that she wasn't attractive to him, hell, she was the most attractive woman he had ever met, but his respect for women's privacy still outweighed his lust.

Widowmaker noticed the sudden head turn, and felt obligated to acknowledge it.

"You don't have to turn your head. I feel no embarrassment," she said, fully undressed, and slipping on the black turtleneck tank top she had chosen, and proceeded to examine herself in the mirror.

Doomfist chuckled.

"What kind of gentleman would I be, if I didn't avert my eyes from a woman, changing her clothes?" he asked, beginning to change as well.

Widowmaker huffed, halfheartedly, "I guess chivalry isn't dead,"

XXXX

Data retrieval, probably the most boring mission possible, but, if that was what Doomfist wanted, then Reaper would do it. It was just one step closer to getting his body back. He'd be damned, even more than he already was, if he dared to squander this opportunity.

He jumped into the pilot seat of his stealth ship, punched in the coordinates for the Overwatch training grounds, and activated the auto pilot. The ship rumbled to life and ascended until it cleared Doomfist's hangar doors, and sped off, cloaking itself as it left Numbani airspace.

Through the cockpit, Reaper saw the bright blue sky, speckled with cumulus clouds which intermingled with their cousins, the stratus clouds. The sun's rays of light bounced off the surfaces of the white clouds, illuminating them for all to see.

Reaper could almost gag at the sight, it was so damn cheerful. He would much prefer a dark, stormy day, filled with gray, depressing cumulonimbus clouds, and lighting striking trees, setting them ablaze, thunder clapping immediately after. Yes, he would much prefer a day like that.

The bright charming day was giving Reaper a headache. He punched in the commands to tint the windshields, so that it wouldn't seem so damn delightful inside the ship. He then pulled off his hood and removed his mask, setting it on the copilot's seat, beside him.

If people though Jack Morrison had deep scars, they haven't seen Reaper's. They weren't so much as scars, but more like burns, burns that have yet to heal, burns that have stayed with a man for as long as he could remember.

His skin hardly resembled that of a man; pale and pealing, cold and dead. It was for this reason why Reaper hadn't looked in a mirror for years, not wanting to see what he had become. It was why he was so willing to help Doomfist in his ridiculous quest for world domination, or what ever the hell he wanted. If the man could get Reaper's body back, he'd be more than willing to help.

He rubbed his eyes in his hand, and brought it down over his face, trying to rid himself of the headache. It was also painfully quiet in the ship, as it contently soared through the clouds. The silence and solitude of the ship had never much perturbed Reaper before, but the recent events had clung to him, and the silence only tightened their grip on him.

He was thinking about the little girl he saw, during his threat to Overwatch, as he killed the ice bitch. He couldn't tell why she stuck in his mind so much, but something was telling him he knew her, that she was important, like she was someone who he cared for.

Who was she? Why was she in his head? Why did she matter to him?

Reaper rubbed his temple and pushed the thought away, clearing his mind.

"It's probably nothing," he said aloud.

Reclining the chair, Reaper folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. He needed sleep.

"Computer," he said, "wake me up when we get there,"

The AI of the ship had no voice, but it flashed a green light with a soft beep, in response.

"And put on my death metal album. I need something to listen to,"

XXXX

A droning alarm went off in the cockpit, pulling Reaper out of the pleasant dream he was having. The subconscious images of Jack Morrison begging for mercy, only to have his mid section have a cantaloup sized hole blown through it, was so satisfying, almost arousing. Reaper would wait for the day he could finally make that dream a reality. But, for now, he had to wake up to the harsh realities of the present, like an unwanted Monday morning.

He yawned, sat up from his reclined chair, and voice commanded for the alarm, and his death metal music, to kindly shut the hell up.

He was there already? The trip should have taken at least half a day. It felt like he only slept for fifteen minutes. Reaper looked out the windshield and, sure enough, he was looking straight at the training grounds. He never thought he'd see this place again. He remembered he would train the rookies a thing or two here, show them how to be real killers. Now, it was a frozen shell of what it once was. It almost seemed tragic to Reaper, almost.

The auto pilot landed the stealth ship and uncloaked, its black armor plating shining brightly in the sunlight. The ramp lowered itself onto the landing pad, and Reaper briskly strode out, adorning his hood and mask once again.

The Himalayan winds echoed throughout the desolate base, snow gathered up in mounds and piles, unattended for God knows how long. It was only a matter of time before this place fell apart to the forces of nature.

As Reaper walked towards one of the quarters, no doubt riddled with computers in every one of them, he came across and all too familiar machine.

"Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!"

A floating robotic training sentry, composed of a torso, head, two pellet guns for arms, and a single eye, approached Reaper, its weapons firing endlessly at the mercenary. The pellets bounced harmlessly off of Reaper, like cotton, gently landing at this feet. Who the hell designed these things, anyway?

Having enough of the nuisance, Reaper drew one of his weapons from his coat, and promptly blasted the training bot with a single shot. The little machine screamed and exploded into a thousand pieces, reduced to scrap metal, its parts clinking on the metal floor.

"I always hated these things," Reaper said to himself, aloud.

He walked into a random room, and sure enough, he found a computer, If Doomfist's intelligence was correct, the UN should have left this facility untouched, leaving all the valuable data with it. He started the computer, and it hummed to life, displaying a satisfying Windows 13 loading screen.

Reaper began to access the Overwatch database, checking every file, searching every folder, to find something that would give him what he wanted. After what seemed like hours of searching, Reaper gave up.

Dammit. He'd have to go all the way to Eco point Antarctica, and freeze his undead ass off. Coming here was a complete waste of time. Frustrated with his immensely boring mission, Reaper leveled his shotgun at the monitor of the computer, and blew the thing apart, the glass of the screen exploding in all directions, clinking all over the table top.

Satisfied with his handy work, Reaper decided he'd wasted enough time here, and headed back to his ship. He stepped through the doorway and headed towards his ride.

It was then that he started to sense something; something wasn't right. He was getting that feeling, the one where you know you're not alone, the one where you feel like someone is watching you, the feeling you get where that same someone is lurking right behind you.

Reaper half spun on his heal, and drew his gun, aiming behind him, expecting to see the someone who was following him. His sights met with nothing, just empty space. But how? He knew he wasn't alone. It was that feeling, like a natural sixth sense, that every hardened soldier has. And when you get that feeling, you never second guess it, because that's when they've already killed you.

They'd show themselves, eventually. What was even worse was that his trigger finger was itching to blast something else to smithereens. He needed to kill something that was actually alive.

Then, unexpectedly, something began to materialize in front of his weapon, something that resembled purple hexagons. He recognized those shapes. He hadn't seen them in a while. That's when it hit him.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked with an irritated tone, lowering his weapon.

A gloved hand with long violet nails emerged, the index finger extended. It playfully poked the nose of Reaper's mask.

"Boop"

Sombra emerged from her invisible state, a mischievous smirk plastered on her face, as usual. Reaper had wondered where she'd run off to. Ever since the failure of the Volskaya mission, she'd been missing. All the Chairman would tell him, and Widow, was that she had went rogue and abandoned Talon. But none of that sat well with Reaper.

"I'll ask again. Where the hell have you been?" He repeated himself.

Sombra rolled her eyes, and raised an eyebrow at her partner in crime.

"Really? Not even a 'hola', Gabe?" she asked, walking past him towards the ship.

"You can't just go missing for a year, show up, and not expect any damn questions. Now talk!" he barked, frustrated with her avoiding the question.

Sombra gave an irritated sigh, and turned to face her hooded partner, who folded his arms across his chest, waiting for her answer.

Sombra wasn't very keen on spilling her guts. She knew when to give information, and when to withhold it. She'd just give Reaper a taste of what he wanted to know.

"Okay, fine. I'll tell you. Not that it would matter, after what happened to Talon," she said.

"So you know, already," Reaper confirmed. He was surprised that Sombra knew, considering her absence for a whole year.

"Yeah, I found out when I came back," she replied, tapping her purple nail on her lip, "Look, don't freak out, but, about a year ago, after our Volskaya mission, Doomfist found me, and gave me an offer I couldn't refuse,".

 _Of course,_ Reaper thought to himself. It seemed like The Successor had his hands in everyone's pockets, by this point. It wouldn't surprise Reaper if the President of the United States owed Doomfist a favor or two. Sombra continued with her explaination.

"So, in return, I had to do a job for him. It took me a hell of a long time, as you've noticed, but I got the job done,"

"And what was this job, and what did he offer you?" Reaper asked, much to Sombra's annoyance.

"That is for me to know and for you to find out. I gave you as much as you needed to know, amigo, now how about you answer my question. What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Reaper grumbled to himself. If that was all she was going to tell him, fine. She was off the hook, for now.

"Our new boss had me come here to get some info, but it's not here,"

"Oh, really?" Sombra replied, her head at a slight tilt, "What info you lookin' for, chico?"

He considered telling her what she told him, that it was for him to know and her to find out, but thought against it. It could be possible she could speed up the process a thousand fold, since hacking was her forte, after all.

"Big Doom wanted me to find the locations of the remaining Overwatch members, so that we could find em and waste em sooner than later. But, just my luck, there's nothing here," Reaper said, a wave of irritation washing over his tone.

Sombra's eyebrows shot up, then narrowed forward as a small smile sprawled across her lips. She giggled to herself as she just realized something.

"Well, today's your lucky day, chico," she said, as she materialized one of her purple holoscreens, suspending it in midair, "I just happen to have what you need,"

Reaper took a full two seconds to process that. He walked up to the purple screen before him, and saw it was a list, with names, and places, and faces, of Overwatch agents. He scrolled down the list, further, and further, till it hit the bottom. They were here, they were all here, on this tiny screen. A smirk grew on Reaper's face, not that Sombra could see it, but she could tell he had a twisted grin on his lips.

"Heh," Reaper began, "Good to have you back, chica,"

She nodded to him, and closed the holoscreen, tucking it back in her cybernetic graft.

"Alright," Reaper said," Let's get back home. I didn't want to go to that frozen wasteland anyway," referring to Ecopoint: Antarctica.

The two headed back to the ship, until Reaper realized something he had yet to ask.

"Wait, how did you get here, anyway?" he inquired, turning to face Sombra.

A blush of embarrassment crawled up into her cheeks, not really wanting to say anything.

"Well, on my way back, I kinda decided to celebrate a job well done, so… I turned on the auto pilot and had a few shots of tequila… and passed out. This is my ship," she said, pointing to the vessel they were walking towards.

Reaper looked at the stealth ship, then back at her, then back to the stealth ship, then back to her. He didn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't see her at all when he boarded the ship! Where the heck was she?

"Were you cloaked the whole time?!" he asked, bewildered.

"… I guess," Sombra replied, giving a small shrug and an embarrassed smile.

Reaper just shook his head. She needed to fix her damn drinking problem. She's probably lost more braincells than all the information she's gathered in her entire life.

"Let's just go home. I'm freezing my ass off, here,"

XXXX

They completed their mission, or rather, their errand, as Doomfist dubbed it, and were headed back to headquarters. Widwomaker had to admit that Doomfist's taste in cars wasn't objectionable. The Successor drove the latest model of a Lamborghini Aventador convertible, modified to have the chassis of the new, environmentally friendly, hover craft that every vehicle was equipped with now.

Doomfist admitted he much preferred having proper wheels and tires, physically on the ground, being able to feel the road beneath him. That was how his father taught him, after all. But, times change, and you have to learn to change with them, or you'll be left behind.

The errand went smoothly because no one in Numbani knew who either Widowmaker or Doomfist were. They just assumed that they were ordinary citizens, like them, since Numbani was such a peaceful city. Doomfist would make sure that its peaceful nature would change as well.

They were about half way back to headquarters, the rush of wind grazing against the tops of their heads, the hot Numbani sun baking their faces. Widowmaker didn't mind, however. She felt neither heat, nor cold. In fact, she felt nothing.

She just laid her arm on the door and rested her cheek against her fist, obviously brooding in her own boredom, her eyes cast forward, waiting to be assigned a real mission.

Doomfist decided it was time to give Widowmaker what she wanted, no, what she needed. He knew her programming would do its best to reject what he had planned, but he was confident in his methods. It would solidify her place by his side.

"So, when was the last time you ran an errand, like this?" he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"I'm not one for small talk," Widow replied, keeping her eyes on the road ahead, not bothering to face Doomfist.

"Well, I am," he replied, calm and gently, "and I'm in the mood for it. So, let's talk,"

Widowmaker rolled her eyes. It couldn't be helped. She might as well talk, since she was bored out of her mind.

"Very well," she said, "The last time I ran an errand was…" she took brief pause to think, recollecting her past life, "when I was still Amélie Lacroix,"

Doomfist gave a slight nod as he kept driving, wanting her to continue remembering.

"Go on," he said.

Widow sighed in response and sat up, reclined her chair slightly, and looked up at the sky. The sky, so bright and blue, speckled with wisps of clouds. Why was he doing this? Widowmaker just kept on thinking, trying to remember what her life was like back then.

"It was- the anniversary of our wedding," she continued, "I was running errands for dinner, but I wanted to get a present for Gérard,"

The memory kept flowing through her mind, slowly, almost painfully, as she recalled every moment in vivid detail. She remembered how excited she was when she found the perfect gift for her husband, how she raced to her car, after purchasing it, and how she never got in that car, never celebrated her anniversary, because-

"That's when they came… out of nowhere. That's when they took me, tortured me, molded me into the perfect weapon," she said.

Then it hit her, again, that sensation of feeling, of, what was it this time? Pain? Anger? Sorrow? All three? She couldn't tell. All she knew was that she didn't like it, the feelings, brought on by the memory. Widowmaker took deeper breaths, trying to calm herself. She could feel her mind getting clouded with thoughts, as more memories caved in on her, like a collapsing building, inside her head.

Doomfist noticed her silence, her programming trying to resist the feelings she was having. Perfect, that was just what he wanted. Time to push further.

He kept driving, seeing the warehouse just breaching the horizon.

"Do you regret what you did?," he said, not looking at Widow.

That triggered something in her, something she didn't want to talk about. She knew exactly what he was referring to: the assassination.

"Of course not," she replied, sternly, "It was my mission. I carried it out, without remorse,"

But now, that was a lie, and she knew it. Her heart rate increased at the memory, thumping almost violently in her chest.. She saw that night, clear as day, moment by moment, in her mind. It was like she was reliving it right before her eyes.

Widowmaker didn't want to think about it, but she couldn't help it. Resisting a memory only amplifies its presence. She saw how peacefully Gérard slept, as he laid in bed, believing that his beloved wife was back with him, ready to move on with his life, with her.

She remembered how she got on top of him, while he slept, and gingerly placed her hands on the sides of his head.

She saw how he opened his eyes from her touch, how he smiled so warmly up at her, thinking everything was alright, everything was as it should be.

She stared back down at him, with eyes not of love, but of cold, unrelenting blood lust. She remembered what his last words were, right before she carried out her mission.

"Mon amour?" he asked, drowsily.

Then she snapped his neck, without a second thought.

She was feeling it, regret. Oh, she regretted it, alright; every damn moment of it. She regretted not taking her guards with her, that day, on their anniversary, regretted not being strong enough to resist Talon's torture, regretted laying in bed, with him, that night, and regretted letting him say those last two words to her.

Widowmaker didn't realize it, but she was trying to fight back something she hadn't had in years; she was fighting back tears.

"Gérard..." she whispered, "Mon amour..."

Doomfist side glanced Widowmaker, and saw his work was done.

Holding her face in her hands, she cried, softly and silently, but she was crying. It was too much; she could feel it, all the emotions, the pain, the agony, the guilt, that was building up for twenty years, all crashing down on her, with the force of a tidal wave.

She couldn't help it. She cried, cried for Gerard, cried for every victim she ever killed, cried because she knew that there was no turning back.

She pulled her hands from her face and shot a glare right at Doomfist, who kept his eyes on the road, entering the warehouse, right above their head quarters.

"What are you doing to me?!" She screamed, demanding to know why he asked her those damn questions.

"Holding up my end of the bargain," he said, turning his head to face her.

She stared back into those dark, brown eyes, seeing something she never thought she'd see in this man: compassion?

Widowmaker turned away from him and pressed her palm against her face again, rubbing the tears out of her eyes. When she pulled her hand away, she noticed something was even more off. The skin of her hands… they weren't blue.

They were a pale, slowly fading back to a much more natural, fleshy color. And her body, the blood in her veins, it wasn't cold. She felt something else, something much more comforting and welcoming; she felt warm.

Her heart was pumping more blood into her than it used to, and she could feel it; her own heart beating like it used to, years ago.

This was wrong. This wasn't her, was it? She was confused, scared, she didn't know what to make of it. She looked over her hands, her fingers, her arms, her legs, she looked at what ever she could look at, what ever she could touch on her person. She was… who was she?

She looked back at Doomfist, who only smiled.

"Welcome back, Amélie," he said.

XXXX

Been a while. Sorry, but nearing the end of first semester, got my priorities. But, Good news is that I sent in the major change request, so I should be on my way to being a more professional writer. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I felt it was only fitting to make a chapter completely based off of our fearsome trio, Widowmaker, Sombra, and Reaper, since we just got our latest, and greatest animation.

(I totally called that shit, btw, with them releasing Sombra with an animation. Ahaha so happy I called it XD)

Anyway, I hope you guys critique this chapter, give me your thoughts. I want to see what you guys and gals think of what I did with Widowmaker. You guys know I love comments, may they be good or bad. It only betters my writing.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving! If you don't celebrate that, then I hope you guys had a wonderful November! Until the next chapter! Buh Bye!

PS

oh wait! There are 76 reviews for this story! You know what that means!

I'VE GOT YOU IN MY SIGHTS!

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	14. Chapter 12

Hello beautiful people! I know, it's been a while, but first semester of college has been pretty fucking hectic, I'm not going to lie. I messed up so now I gotta make amends. But, good news is it's winter break! You know what that means! …. No… no you don't. But I DO. It means you'll be getting chapters more frequently hahah! So, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please, leave a comment, critique, anything. It only makes the chapters come out quicker. Thank you all for reading! Here is your chapter

XXXX

"You vant us to go vhere?!" Reinhardt exclaimed, feeling his blood pressure begin to rise far beyond what he considered to be healthy.

He and Brigitte stood in the middle of the room Hanzo had provided for him, lit by only a small table lamp, sitting contently on a table in the corner. The light from the lamp cast low, brown shadows up against the wooden walls.

They hadn't turned in for the night yet, since Brigitte insisted she had to talk to the old veteran, claiming she had something important to discuss with him. She undersold its importance.

"Reinhardt, I know you have strong feelings towards that place, but, as far as I can tell, it is our best, and only option," Brigitte said, keeping her tone firm against the Crusader soldier.

The old man gave a heavy sigh, and scrubbed his hand across his face. He'd hate to admit it, but Brigitte wasn't wrong. They were out of options, and the only place worth going was… there.

"Why do you always have to be right?" he asked, plopping himself on his bed, rubbing his good eye in his palm.

Brigitte could see the pain he was feeling, and she shared it with him. It had been a while since they ever talked about _that_ place, and she had hoped it would never be brought back up again. But, here they were, talking about it, because of her.

But, what other choice did they have? In Brigitte's eyes, it was the best place to go.

"Rein, I know why you're so upset. We both lost friends there; family. But, you know, as well as I, that we have nowhere else to go,"

Reinhardt looked up from his palm, and stared right back into Brigitte's eyes. The hairs on the back of Brigitte's neck shot up. She hated it when he looked at her like that.

"And how do you know that there aren't any authorities over there? What if the United Nations has their grubby little paws all over it? They'll be looking for us now, Brigitte. After that little fiasco in Gibraltar, we're targets on both fronts,"

"I've gone there, many times, scavenging for parts and supplies, what ever I could find. Not once did I ever see anything indicating anyone else lives there. It's a ghost town, Reinhardt," that last sentence trailed off, as the two recollected who and what they had lost in said ghost town.

The Crusader drew in a long breath, held it for a second, and released it in a slow, melancholy sigh. Every Crusader he trained with, laughed with, drank with, reveled with, sparred with, fought with, and fell with, all gone, over the span of a year.

Reinhardt often told himself that, if only he had been there, during that fight, maybe, just maybe he could have done something, anything, to save at least one of them. But could he have? Could he have saved anyone from that slaughter? Could he have influenced that battle, just enough, to turn its tide, and save his comrades? Could he have made any kind of difference? Even if he could, he would never be able to tell. Ever since the end of that single battle, Reinhardt was the last Crusader.

He sighed again, scratched the nape of his neck, and took in another breath, giving in.

"Alright, fine. It's not like we have any other options," he said, almost in defeat, despite the fact that Brigitte's idea would actually benefit them all, "Let's go tell the commander,"

Brigitte's cheeks flushed red, recalling the encounter she just had with Jack and Lena. She honestly couldn't believe she had walked in on that.

"Actually," she began, "the commander is… busy at the moment,"

Reinhardt raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Vhat on Earth vith?" he asked, slightly frustrated.

"Not so much 'what'," Brigitte said, "but 'who',"

Reinhardt's eyebrows shot up after a full second, realizing what Brigitte was referring to, or rather, who she was referring to. Then he gave into a soft chuckle, and shook his head.

'Of course, they were back at it again,' Reinhardt thought to himself.

"Jack, you old dog," he said, aloud, feeling glad that his comrades were finding some intimacy during this trying time. They both deserved it, after everything that happened.

"Well then," Reinhardt said, "If that is the case, we should retire for the night. I'm sure the commander will be more… available in the morning,"

Brigitte nodded, silently agreeing. She made her way to the sliding door, opened it, but stopped before exiting the room. She turned to face her friend, who just smiled at her as she left. His smile. It was always something that could lift anyone's spirits, no matter the tragedy.

Even with his missing eye, Reinhardt's smile was never something anyone would ever want to look away from. You couldn't help but know that this man would be there for you, whenever you needed him. In his smile, you could tell that he felt your pain, knew what you were going through, and that he was willing to go out of his way just to help you. It comforted Brigitte, knowing that he was just as much a friend, as he was a warrior.

"Guten nacht, Reinhardt," Brigitte said.

"Guten nacht, Brigitte," Reinhardt replied.

She smiled back and left the room, closing it gingerly behind her, and headed towards her own room.

XXXX

For the first time, after the destruction of the Swiss HQ, Jack Morrison woke up from his sleep, without a migraine. The habit of training his body to start functioning at 7:00 in the morning started to kick in, forcing him to rise up, out of his sleep. Slowly he sat up, dragging his hand across his face, forcing his eyes awake.

He yawned, and scratched his head with both hands, and blinked painfully, feeling the light assault his retinas like a rocket barrage. The light of the rising sun came into his room in long, illuminating beams, piercing through the window blinds. While their bed was not placed on an intercept course for the beams of light, opening your eyes still meant they'd feel the sting of UV rays.

Jack looked to his right side, spying a still fast asleep Lena Oxton, contently curled up beside him. Her hair was nothing short of wild mess, as if a porcupine got caught in a blender, and was placed firmly on her scalp. And, to top it all off, she was snoring.

It wasn't one of those cute snores either, where a girl would take in a small breath of air, and let it out like someone poked a hole in a balloon. No, this snore was more like a rhinoceros gargling marbles while trying to take in air. Jack could never understand how such an obnoxious noise could come out of such a small woman.

But, you know what they say: big things, small packages. He didn't complain, however. It just added character. Besides, he hardly ever noticed it because his snores were probably just as loud.

He didn't remember her actually ever snoring, over twenty years ago, when he was a young man. She always seemed more peaceful in her sleep, a huge contrast to when she was up and active. Those were much better times, he had to admit. Everything seemed so much simpler, even during the Omnic Crisis. There was always a clear line, defining who was enemy, who was ally, between objective A and objective B. But, as he got older, wiser, he realized that line was a lot blurrier than before; and no, it's not because his eyesight was getting poor.

The chain reaction of the dawning of the second Omnic Crisis, Reyes' betrayal, and the disbanding of Overwatch was not just a coincidence. They were all connected; Jack knew it, and he knew there was even more than that going on. Something big was coming, he could feel it, and they had to be ready when it hit them, before it was too late.

A silent double knock came from the across the room, followed by the sliding door opening, slightly. Brigitte poked her head through, raising her eyebrows in a 'you ready?' gesture.

Jack nodded, and Brigitte returned the nod, slipping away and closing the door as she left. The commander ran his fingers through his gray hair, feeling his receding hairline. He missed the days of having a full head of hair, but wasn't about to complain. The super soldier serum in him kept him alive this long, and as long as he was alive, he'd fight.

Morrison left the bed and quickly slapped on his pants, which were lying defenseless on the wooden floor. He'd get fully dressed later. He just didn't want to keep Reinhardt and Brigitte waiting. What on Earth could they possibly have to tell him? Whatever it was, Jack was certain it was important.

As he left the room, a wave of drowsiness washed over him, causing him to prop himself up against the wall. Coffee. He needed Coffee. After closing the door, Jack pulled his comlink from his pocket, and set it to Genji's frequency.

"Genji," he said, gruffly.

"Good morning, Commander!" exclaimed the cybernetic Japanese voice, on the other end of the comm.

"You wouldn't happen to have any coffee here, would you?" Jack asked, rubbing his eyes, liberating them from the small dry flecks that gathered in the caruncles.

"Of course we do, Commander! If we didn't, I doubt Hanzo would be able to even function for half the day,"

Well, that was a relief. Glad to know someone here sympathized with Jack's morning caffeine deficiency.

"I can bring it to you, if you'd like," Genji said, chivalrously.

Now that was something Jack hadn't expected. He was perfectly fine going to get it himself, but, if Genji was offering, how could he refuse?

"Oh, um- sure. That'd be great. Thanks, Genji. You remember how I like it, right?"

"Dark. No sugar, or cream," Genji replied.

"You got it,"

"I will be swift as the wind,"

"Alright, soldier. See you soon,"

With that, Jack cut the feed and made his way to Reinhardt's quarters, where he knew Brigitte was waiting for him.

He entered the room and found them both; Reinhardt on the bed, sitting up with his legs crossed, and Brigitte leaning against the wardrobe, apparently identical to the one in Jack's room.

"Alright, what's this all about?" he asked them.

Brigitte explained her plan to Morrison, telling him every detail, every benefit, and every reason why they should go to Eichenwalde. She reassured him that there was no risk in using the old town as a HQ.

The castle would prove as a reliable strong hold, and the decommissioned omnic bodies could be rewired as defense turrets. Jack was still uncertain about the whole plan. The town wasn't that far away from the borders of Stuttgart, and, if anyone was alerted of their presence, the UN would be all over them in a millisecond. But, it wasn't like they had any other options.

Besides, he was certain Winston could project a cloaking barrier, or something, over the town. He was convinced this was their best option.

"Alright, it's our best bet. Good work, Brige. Alert everyone else. We leave as soon as everyone is ready,"

Both Reinhardt and Brigitte nodded and left the room, leaving Jack to himself. He was making his way back to his room, when Winston's voice echoed in his comlink.

"Commander? Are you awake?" the scientist asked, a cautions tone in his voice.

"Affirmative. What's up?"

"Um, Alejandra would like you to come and see what we've found. We're in the ship."

It seemed like everyone had something to tell him, today. Though, he wasn't complaining, he still didn't feel like stepping outside until he had his coffee.

"Okay, tell her I'll be right there. I need my coffee first," he said.

"Roger that,"

The feed cut, and Jack entered the room, to find Lena still lying in bed. She seemed so peaceful and calm, her chest slowly rising and falling with each breath she took. She wasn't snoring, however, which meant she was probably awake.

"Come back to bed, love," she muttered, trying to fall back to sleep.

Jack smiled, sat on the edge of the bed beside her, and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Come on, soldier. Time to wake up," he ordered, gently, standing up from the bed.

Lena grunted and rubbed her eyes, sitting up in the bed.

"Why?" she asked, almost pouting.

"Are you questioning my orders?" Jack replied, picking up Lena's undershirt from the floor.

"Maybe," she said, "Am I gonna get court-martialed?" she finished her sentence with a drowsy smirk.

Jack replied by lobbing Lena's shirt right at her face, causing her to let out a satisfying yelp. She pulled the shirt off her face and slid herself into it, rubbing her eyes, trying to push the sleep out of her.

"As soon as everyone is ready, we're moving out," Jack said as he got dressed, securing his armor on his coat.

"What?" Lena asked, "We just got here. Where are we going?"

"Eichenwalde!" Exclaimed Genji, casually propped up against the window.

Lena and Jack hadn't even noticed the cyborg enter. They stared at him in bewilderment, not sure what to say.

"Genji?" Jack started, "How did you get in here?"

Genji slowly turned his head towards his commander, honestly ashamed of him.

"Commander, I am a ninja. Do I really need to answer that question?"

Jack shrugged with a 'true enough,' gesture.

"Okay, but how did you know we were heading to Eichenwalde?"

"After we finished talking, you left your commchannel on my frequency. I didn't notice until you and Reinhardt's partner were conversing. I pretty much heard everything,"

Jack couldn't help but fee stupid. He left his comm on Genji's frequency? He could have sworn he turned that off. Besides being oblivious to it, Jack just saw it as carelessness; carelessness that could get them all killed. And that's when realized something else.

"Genji, where's my coffee?"

"Ah, yes. Here you go, Commander," Genji said, handing Jack a steaming mug of caffeine.

The commander graciously took the mug, and sipped. Immediately, endorphins began to fire off in his head, and he could feel his body really waking up, like his muscles were stretching for the first time, all morning.

"Oh, I also brought you some tea, Lena," Genji stated, delivering the pilot a different cup, the steam condensating on on his faceplate.

"Oh! Thanks, love!" Lena replied, sipping her tea in bed.

Jack finished getting dressed, and was about to head out the door, when another migraine hit him. This one was worse that the one at Gibraltar; a lot worse.

If there was a way to feel two semi trucks sandwiching you cerebral cortex, over and over again, Jack just found it. His brain felt like it could pop at any moment. He propped himself against the door frame, and held his head in his hand, trying to force the migraine out.

Why was this happening? What the hell was happening to him?

"Jack, are you alright?" Even though Lena was barely ten feet away, her voice was a distant echo, contorting itself in Jack's brain.

He grabbed the bottle of Aspirin, that Angela gave him, from his coat pocket, and popped two of the pills into his mouth. The drugs took their effect instantly, and Jack could feel the semi trucks slowly release their grip on his brain. He shook his head free of the last of the migraine, cleared his throat, and let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Yeah, feeling spry, Ley," he lied, "I'm going to check on Alejandra and Winston. They need me for something. Wanna come?"

"Um, I'll catch up later, love. I need to get dressed first," Lena said, securing the blanket over her lower torso. She was still naked from the waist down.

Jack nodded and left he room, leaving Genji and Lena to themselves. The two just stood there in silence, not really knowing what to say. Lena let out some air through the corner of her mouth. Genji kept is hand at his side and tapped his thigh with this index finger, producing a soft pinging noise.

Lena didn't want to say anything, because she thought Genji would've left the room by now, but there he was, standing in the middle of the room, awkwardly.

"Um, Genji. I think you should- go now."

"Oh! Yes, of course. My apologies," Genji stuttered.

A swirl of smoke engulfed the ninja, and when it cleared, Genji was nowhere to be seen. Lena blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what she just witnessed, but decided not to question it. He was a ninja, after all. However…

"… I swear, if you're still in here, I am going to beat the crap outta you!"

XXXX

Sipping his coffee, Jack made his way to the dropship, thinking about his second migraine. Why was this happening to him? Was he getting too old? Did it have something to do with the serum the military pumped into him, years ago? He'd ask Angela for an examination. Maybe she could figure something out.

He didn't want to worry Lena about it, though. That was why he lied, so that it would be one less thing for her to get worked up about. He didn't need anyone to be distracted with anything they couldn't take care of.

Jack walked up the ramp, and was met by a wide eyed, over excited, Alejandra, who sprung up to him, tugging on his coat and speaking so fast, it almost seemed she had more coffee than him (he hoped she wasn't drinking any at all).

"Jack! Jack! We were right! We were right all this time! I know it was a long shot, but we were right!"

"Woah, woah. Ali, slow down. Right about what?"

"Come! We'll show you!"

Alejandra took Jack by the hand and dragged him towards the holotable, where Winston was waiting, patiently chewing on a banana.

"Good morning, Commander," he said, after finishing his breakfast.

"Morning, Winston. What's this all about?"

At once, Winston hit a button on the holotable, displaying the footage he and Alejandra found last night.

Jack watched both recordings, both of which were damning evidence that Alejandra's theory was not far off. Jack had no idea Reyes had a secret family, hidden in Dorado of all places, but there they were, one big happy family; at least, until the second video.

Jack couldn't help but flinch when he saw Reyes' son get shot, mercilessly, without even a second thought from the Deadlock scum. He had no idea they would go after Reyes. He didn't even know Reyes was taken! How was it covered up? Who covered it up?

Jack got his answer by the end of the video: Talon. He knew it, Talon was behind it all. As soon as Widowmaker stepped through the hole in the wall, Jack knew who to blame for tearing Overwatch apart. He was convinced now that those terrorists manipulated Gabriel, after their supposed rescue from the Deadlock Gang. But, there were still some holes in this whole thing; holes that couldn't be ignored.

"That's Reyes and your mother, alright," Jack started, "but, she's not pregnant with you, in these videos,"

Alejandra had to take a second to process that statement. She heard the words come out of Jack's mouth, saw the man speak right in front of her, but she could not even process the words which were spoken.

"Que? What are you talking about?" Alejandra asked, almost demanded, "You heard Gabriel! You heard him say my name!"

"Ali, look at the date," Jack replied, calmly, not wanting to aggravate her.

Alejandra brought her eyes to the video, and she saw what Jack was talking about. In the left hand corner, accompanying the recording timer, was the date which the video was recorded.

"June sixteenth… 2058..." Alejandra said, solemnly.

"If the baby your mother is carrying in the video was you," Jack started, "you would be over twenty years old,"

Winston walked up towards the holoscreen, adjusted his glasses, and pondered at the new found information. He was already formulating theories in his mind, though he would hold them back until absolutely certain of them.

"B-but, that's my mama, right there! You can't just ignore that," Alejandra said, pointing at the paused video, an image of Gabriel and Alexandria smiling, together, happy.

That was a face Jack hadn't seen on Reyes in a long time. Seeing that grin on his former friend almost made Jack miss him- almost.

But, it still didn't make any sense. The unborn child in the videos couldn't be the Alejandra standing next to Jack Morrison. She would be at least twenty two years old.

"Well, can't we just do a, like a DNA test, or something?" Alejandra suggested, almost desperate to prove her theory, by this point.

"Unfortunately, we don't have the equipment for that kind of procedure," Winston said, knuckle walking his way to Alejandra, "But fret not, Alejandra. You are still probably Gabriel's daughter,"

Jack and Alejandra turned to face the scientist, who adjusted glasses, reflecting light off of them to block out his eyes.

"I have a theory," he began, "Between the kidnapping of your family, the murder of her first born, and the subsequent rescue by Talon, your mother was, no doubt, under a lot of stress; so much stress, that she underwent premature labor,"

The other two listened intently, particularly Alejandra, who was wiling to hear anything by this point.

She couldn't tell why she was so eager to prove she was Reyes' daughter. It wouldn't change anything, would it? He was still the enemy, still psychotic, still lost, right? Winston continued.

"Because of this, the child named Alejandra most likely died, leaving the Reyes family childless. However, this all happened in 2058, and Gabriel hadn't betrayed until 2070. This means one of two things: either the Reyes' conceived another child in between that gap of time, or they adopted. Either way, they named the child after the last child they had lost. And now, here you are,"

Alejandra blinked once, then twice, processing everything that was just said. While everything Winston told her made sense, she couldn't help but start seeing a few holes in the theory.

"But, would Talon just let my mother and father have a child while in their custody?" she asked.

Winston frowned at the floor and stroked his chin, beginning to ponder again. But by that point, it didn't matter. Alejandra's patience had worn thin.

"Ugh!" she yelled, frustrated beyond belief, "Every time we find another clue, we just run into another road block! Madre de Dios!"

She'd had enough. She needed to cool her jets somewhere else.

Alejandra stormed out of the ship; shoulders pulled up and fists at her side, as if she was storming away from the bakery, years ago.

The two veterans watched as their youngest member marched off, past the Shimada bell, and out of view, presumably sitting on the ledge on the opposite side.

They looked at each other, as if expecting one of them to go after her. Winston silently gestured with a tilt of his head, and a roll of his eyes, for Jack to go to her. Jack replied with the same gesture, not moving from his spot at the door frame.

The head tilt gestures continued for ten seconds before Jack finally gave in, and left the ship. Winston triumphantly smirked, watching the Commander take responsibility for the child he brought with him.

Jack was in front of the Shimada bell, his foot falls causing the boards beneath him to creak with every step. He saw Alejandra on the other end of the gazebo, sitting on the steps, looking out at the vast city ahead, the shape of Mt. Fuji obscured by the haze of the horizon.

Jack was about to approach her, until he saw another figure already beside Alejandra.

Lena was staring at the city too, apparently speaking with Alejandra. Jack stood his ground, behind the bell, and listened, letting the two of them do their thing, without interruption.

"I mean, you wouldn't just throw away the chance to save somebody… would you?" Alejandra asked, side glancing Tracer.

Keeping her eyes focused on the mountain, Lena shook her head.

"No, I wouldn't. Not in a million years," she turned her head to face Alejandra, "But, you gotta know something, about the things we do in war, the one thing we don't want to admit to ourselves, no matter how hard we try,"

Alejandra titled her head, waiting to hear what it was Lena was referring to.

The pilot looked right into Alejandra's eyes, wanting to make sure that the girl would never forget what she was about to say.

"… You can't save everyone, love,"

Alejandra blinked, cast her eyes down for a moment, then looked back towards the mountain, as if it was a symbol, a testament to that statement.

She didn't want to believe those words. She wanted to prove that she could save everyone, to prove that she could save Gabriel, and bring him back. Even if he wasn't her father, he was the last link to her family, the one she lost to the scum of this world. Then, that's when she thought about her mother.

No one saved her, not even Jack Morrison could save her. If someone like Jack couldn't save Alexandria, then how the hell was she supposed to save Gabriel?

If she couldn't take back the last link to her family, Alejandra was prepared to burn down everyone responsible, until there was nothing left of them. She wasn't going to die, like her mother. She wasn't going to be manipulated like her father. She was going to get what she deserved: cold, unadulterated vengeance.

"You know what I think?" Lena said.

The voice of Lena Oxton snapped Alejandra out of her inner monologue, bringing her attention back to the conversation. Lena continued

"I think you need to back away from all this. Come back to it with a fresh head, y'know?"

Alejandra heard those words, let them soak in, and understood them. Tracer was right; she wasn't ready to tackle this, not now anyway. She needed time away from it; she was already becoming obsessed with it.

Alejandra took a deep breath, let it out, and felt her mind clear itself, felt her muscles relax themselves, and felt her spirit calm itself. She smiled, and looked at the hero beside her, and nodded.

"Gracias, Ms. Oxton," she said.

Lena smiled back, and said, "De nada"

Alejandra appreciated Lena's attempt to speak her tongue, but couldn't help but giggle on the inside. It wasn't that Lena said anything wrong, it was just her British accent did not go well with the Spanish language.

Lena saw Jack out of the corner of her eye. She silently mouthed 'you're welcome' at him, to which Jack mouthed 'thank you' back. He then gestured her to get a move on, so that they could leave for Eichenwalde as soon as they could. Lena nodded and patted Alejandra's back.

"C'mon. We gotta get goin'. We've got a new 'ome and we gotta spruce it up a bit," she said.

Alejandra just nodded and followed, ready to clear her mind. Wherever they were going, she just hoped it would help them win this war. She wasn't going to lose hope, however, of saving Gabriel. She didn't ever care if he was her father or not. He knew her mother, and that was enough to convince her that she needed to get him back, no matter the cost.

XXXX

They were all almost ready, and began boarding the dropship, the thrusters humming, ready to take off at a moment's notice.

The only people not aboard were Genji, Hanzo, and Angela. The doctor was just getting ready because she was exhausted from, well, pretty much everything that had happened the past few days. The two brothers were conversing in the main courtyard, where the ship awaited for take off.

"Are you sure you wish to go now?" Hanzo asked his brother, "There is much work to be done here,"

"I still have a duty to Overwatch, brother. But, rest assured," Genji placed his hand on Hanzo's shoulder, "I will return to rebuild our family's honor, with you. Besides, with me gone, you can get a head start,"

Hanzo let out a scoff.

"More like you're leaving all the work to me," He replied, looking his brother right in the faceplate.

"Perhaps," Genji said, with a sarcastic chuckle, "but I have my own task to complete. And when I am done, I will return.

Hanzo did not want his brother to leave. It wasn't that he feared for Genji's saftey; the only other warrior to best his brother was Hanzo himself, anyway. He just wanted to rebuild his family legacy with the brother he thought he had lost. But, this wasn't the same boy he knew, years ago.

He was a man, a man with his own path to follow, and that path would lead him back home, some day.

Hanzo extended his arm out to Genji, who smiled under his faceplate, grabbed his brother's arm, and shook it firmly.

Genji almost didn't want to let go of Hanzo's arm, as if it was the last time he would ever grasp it. He was overjoyed to know his brother had forgiven himself, for everything. They could finally start anew. But that would have to wait. While he would love nothing more than to be with Hanzo, and renew their family name, he knew where his place was, and it was with the people behind him, waiting for him, so their mission could begin.

They released each other and nodded, preparing to part once again, except with much less violence this time. Genji turned on his heel and walked up the ramp to the ship, taking his place amongst his allies.

Hanzo watched as his brother stood with them, like another family; a family that would never bring harm to him, a family he belonged with. Perhaps this was for the best. Perhaps Genji was always meant to be with these people. He would join them, to fight along side Genji, to rekindle the flames of the past, to just be with the last member of his family, but it was not meant to be, not yet anyway.

Hanzo knew where his loyalties lied; here, in Hanamura. It was here where he would repair his family's legacy.

A tap on his shoulder snapped Hanzo back to the present. He turned and saw Angela, smiling kindly up at him. Her blue eyes were brought out by the morning light, almost blinding Hanzo. He admitted to himself that he could get lost in those eyes.

"Guten morgen, Hanzo," she said, her hands clasped behind her back

Hanzo smiled slightly and bowed.

"And a good morning to you as well, Angela san," he replied.

She couldn't tell why, but Angela found it chivalrous of Hnazo to bow to her. She knew it was a sign of respect, in his culture, but she couldn't help but think he did it just for her.

Hanzo stood upright again, and gave Angela a slight nod.

"I must admit," he started, "I am not thrilled by your parting,"

Angela smiled at that.

"Neither am I," she said, "But, duty calls. You of all people should know that,"

Hanzo only replied with a soft smirk, not knowing how to reply to that. He couldn't tell if it was dry humor, or if Angela was being genuine with that statement. Either way, it made Hanzo uncomfortable. Duty. Just another word for blind obedience. It was duty that led him to murder his brother in the first place.

Angela scratched the side of her head, unsure of what to say or do. She was feeling a little conflicted about her next move, not sure if it would make their current bubble of awkwardness even worse.

After five full seconds of silence, Angela finally womanned the hell up and handed Hanzo something. He took it in his gloved hand, and inspected it.

"My card," Angela said, quickly, "In case you… need a doctor,"

Hanzo knew what this card really meant, but didn't lead on. He smiled and nodded, accepting the card.

"I will keep it close," he said, tucking the card in his breast pocket.

Angela felt a wave of relief wash over her, as Hanzo tucked the card away. She finally released the breath she was holding.

"Well, I'm off," she said, walking past the archer. They really did need to get going, after all.

She was half way up the ramp, when she stopped, and turned to face Hanzo, his brown eyes illuminated by the rising sun. Angela admitted, she could get lost in those eyes.

"Take care of yourself, Hanzo,":

Hanzo smiled and nodded one last time, looking up at the good doctor.

"You as well, Angela,"

Angela took one last moment to look at Hanzo. She had a feeling she wasn't going to see him for a long time.

She boarded the drop ship, allowing Winston to close the ramp door, and begin their ascent. Genji was sitting on one of the couches, near the other end of the compartment, arms spread out along the couch's backrest.

"Well," he said, "that wasn't awkward at all,"

Angela didn't even bother to look at him, as she took a seat beside the ninja.

"I put you together, and I can just as easily take you apart," she replied, coldly.

Genji didn't speak for the remainder of the flight.

XXXX

Outside, Hanzo watched as the dropship ascended. The thrusters kicked up the dust and rocks of the rock garden courtyard, some of them scattering all along the floor boards. Hanzo watched as the ship drifted away, out of sight, and almost out of mind. Genji was gone, once again. His brother was gone, once again. Hanzo was alone, once again. He couldn't help but feel it was bound to come to this, once again. Him, against all odds, against the world.

Though he knew he wouldn't be lone for very long; just long enough. Hanzo turned to face his home, his real home, the home he left years ago, kept coming back once every year, for that one day. Now, he had taken it all back, and he wasn't about to let it go.

He took in a breath, held it for a whole second, and let it go.

"Well then, let's get started,"

XXXX

Hey… sorry guys I know I know. A WHOLE MONTH since the last update. But, you know how it is. Finals, holidays. Things get in the way :P

BUT, we're on break now, for a month. So, This is the promise I will try to keep. Chapters, every three days. If that means they're short, then okay, BUT I really want to try and get a chapter in every three days for the next month. If it takes four, then it's gonna take four, but I swear, this is what I want to do for the next month.

Okay, time to address the elephant in the room…. Francine… Happy birthday.

But seriously, I'm sure you've all read or at least heard about the new comic Blizzard released. Yes, Tracer has a girlfriend. SO, since I do not like to lore break, I guess I'm going to have to give a spoiler to the story: Jack and Lena WILL break up, so that she can get with Emily. It's not going to happen in this story, but in this story's sequel. So, please, I don't want any comments telling me "Oh hey, Jossshiiiii. You do know that Lena is gay right?" yes, I know, but ONCE AGAIN, blizzard surprises us with lore. So, I gotta accommodate for it and alter the story as it goes along.

I hope you all like this chapter. Yes, I know, kinda short, but I just needed to update you guys. This was gonna be a slightly longer one, but I got tired of not giving you guys something. SO here it is.

Also, the other reason why I was so late with this was because… well… have you LISTENED TO HAMILTON!? I mean… I wasn't spending hours upon hours listening to the soundtrack. Nope, no sir ee… See you guys in three days!


	15. Chapter 13

… I broke my promise big time T_T I'm sorry guys. Just things got hectic at home, I couldn't onehundred percent focus on the story. I needed time to unwind, and I kinda just ran outta steam. I'm sure you understand. I hope this small chapter will make up for it. I'm getting back in the swing of things. This chapter also went through a lot of rewrites so that's also a reason why I took so long to get it out. So yeah. Sorry again. Hope you enjoy this one. It's short but I did my best. Thank you again for all your support! I luv you all!

XXXX

"What the hell am I looking at?" Reaper asked, almost in disgust.

The three of them were gathered in the main control room, the largest monitor still counting up, displaying the Iris' progress as it processed through every Omnic mind across the globe. The light from the monitors glistened off the damp cave walls, almost illuminating the rest of the cavern.

Reaper and Sombra had just returned to Doomfist's HQ, ready to deliver the information they, or rather Sombra, had retrieved. Instead, they found themselves staring at the face of Widowmaker, and yet, it wasn't Widowmaker at all.

Amélie Lacroix smiled at her colleagues, waving timidly at them, as if she was waving at childhood friends.

"Bonjour, Gabriel, Sombra," she said, with a shy eagerness.

Reaper and Sombra just stared at Amélie, not sure what else to say. Everything about her was different; her skin had a more natural pale tone, flush with life and energy. Her lips held a wide smile, approachable and kind. And her eyes, they weren't cold, heartless, dead. They were warm, gentle, and full of life.

Reaper couldn't believe what he was looking at, who he was looking at. What the hell did Doomfist do to her?

"What?!" Sombra exclaimed, rushing over to Amélie's side, "You were a human this whole time? I thought you were a blue alien, or something,"

Amélie chuckled at her friend's joke, knowing full well that Sombra knew everything about everything.

Amélie had yet to re-equip her usual uniform, since the vast cave wasn't particularly cozy and warm. She remained in the black turtleneck and purple slacks that she wore to the market.

"It's good to see you too, mon ami. I missed you,"

"Missed me?" Sombra said, feigning astonishment, "Now that's a first,"

Reaper, however, was not as charmed. He didn't like this, not one bit. Was this what Widowmaker wanted? To be turned back into this? An emotional, conscientious, compromisable, self conscious thing?

"What happened to you?" He asked, approaching Amélie.

"Now Gabriel," Amélie started, "I know what you're thinking, but believe me, there is nothing to worry about,"

"Nothing to worry about?" Reaper exclaimed, "Explain to me, how this isn't going to affect you in the field! We need you to be cold, calculating, precise, and efficient. Why do you think Talon did what they did to you in the first place?"

"Gabriel, I swear, I will be just as quick on the trigger as I always have been," Amélie pleaded, her face full of genuine sincerity, "But I will not do it under the guise of Widowmaker. I am Amélie Lacriox,"

Reaper couldn't help but growl to himself. This wasn't his partner. This was the ghost of a woman who should have been buried long ago. He couldn't trust this person. No, Widowmaker was still in there, he knew it. Whether Amélie liked it or not, he'd get his partner back.

"Just you wait," Reaper growled, "She'll be back, and you'll be nothing but a forgotten memory, again,"

"Why do you care about her so much?" Amélie asked, tilting her head to one side, not understanding Reaper's aggression.

"I don't care about her," Reaper replied, "I just don't trust you,"

Those words hung in the air like a hangman's noose without a corpse. They seemed like they should mean something, and yet they meant nothing.

Why? Why did those words have no meaning? Did everything she and Gabriel go through mean nothing? After every mission, every victory, every defeat, was it all meaningless? Perhaps it was simply because that's all they were: Missions, victories, defeats. No real emotional connection should have been made, or could have been made, for that matter.

She wasn't Amélie Lacriox then. She was Widowmaker. She only lived for the moment of the kill. Other than that, she was dead inside. But not anymore.

After a brief pause, with nothing but the gentle lapping of the cave water below them to fill the silence, Reaper let out a sigh. He was getting frustrated for no reason. He knew Talon's programming would kick in sooner or later. Besides, he still had Sombra, and even though he never trusted her, either, he knew she was damn good at her job.

Things would straighten themselves out sooner or later, and Reaper knew it.

"Where's the boss?" he asked, putting the conversation behind him.

As if on cue, one of the automated doors on the left side of the control room parted, beckoning the three of them to enter. Reaper and Sombra drew their attention to the door, but Amélie remained composed, seeming to have expected it to open.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," she began, "Dinner is ready,"

"Dinner?" Sombra exclaimed, "Oh, Dios mio, I haven't had a real meal in weeks!"

Before either Reaper or Amélie noticed, Sombra was already through the door. With a sweep of her arm, Amélie gestured for Reaper to go ahead of her, cracking and charming smile out of the corner of her mouth. To Reaper, the smile was anything but charming, but he indulged her, all the while grumbling to himself.

The room which Sombra had entered was designed similarly to the control room; one massive platform in the center with narrow bridges branching off into different rooms, all suspended above cave water from the cavern's natural river. The difference between the two rooms was the large table on the main platform, coated in plates and silverware and drinking glasses.

Accompanying the plates were large portions of sirloin, potato salad, and a tall bottle of what appeared to be a very expensive wine. At the far end of the table sat the trio's boss, who stood up as they stepped in, adorning a welcoming posture.

"Sombra, Gabriel," Doomfist started, "Welcome back. I trust you retrieved the data we desire,"

Sombra paid no heed to Doomfist's words, but made a B line for the sirloin, sitting on a plate on the left side of the table.

"She already had everything we needed. I went out there for nothing," Reaper replied, taking a seat across from Sombra, who was quite happily filling her mouth by that point.

Amélie, despite the tension from earlier, placed herself beside her hooded partner.

"Ah," Doomfist began, lowering himself to his chair, "I see. Well done. Sombra,"

Her attention caught, Sombra swiveled her head towards Doomfist, sirloin hanging from her lips.

"The data on Overwatch, if you will," Doomfist requested, giving a charismatic smile.

Swallowing her food, Sombra nodded. With a flick of her wrist, a purple hologram of the globe materialized, hovering above the center of the table. Along side it was the list of Overwatch agents, the ones who had yet to answer the recall. The purple hologram illuminated everything with a soft violet hue, as if it was going to consume what ever its light touched.

Doomfist's charismatic smile twisted into a grin, a grin that would make anyone, feint of heart, keep their distance. He was glad he had employed such competent allies, allies who knew how to do their jobs.

"Excellent," he began, "With this, the fates of these individuals are all but assured. Starting tomorrow, each of you will be assigned a target. Form a small task force of your best Talon units, and assassinate these former agents,"

Amélie's eyes rolled over the list as it slowly scrolled down, revealing names and faces of retired Overwatch members. She recognized many of them; some were good friends of Gérard's, others she remembered having coffee with. It was a shame they'd all have to die. Doomfist continued.

"Remember, they are isolated, alone, and that means they are weak. But you have your team. Work as a team, win as a team, Alone, they stand no chance against you. And when we've killed them all, the ones who escaped Gibraltar will find their world a whole lot smaller,"

The next grin Doomfist slipped from his lips made even Reaper feel uncomfortable. He could sense the joy and genuine pleasure Doomfist was feeling just by talking about destroying the remnants of Overwatch. Reaper couldn't tell if he should admire the man, or be afraid.

"I have prepared quarters here, for the three of you," Doomfist continued, "unless you have other places to be, of course. Are there any questions?"

"I've got one," Reaper said, as if he was the one guy who no one listened to at all the board meetings, "When are you going to hold up your end of the bargain? You already got Widowm-"

"Amélie," Amélie interrupted, before indulging herself in some potato salad.

"...Amélie," Reaper corrected himself, "-what she wanted. So what about me?"

Doomfist set his elbows on the table, locked his fingers together, and let out a brief sigh.

"I understand your frustration, my friend. Trust me, I have not forgotten you. But, what you desire requires more than just the throw of a switch, or a therapy session,"

"Well, what do we need?" Reaper asked, ready to get what ever it is he needed, without hesitation.

"Angela Ziegler," Doomfist said, simply.

An uneasy silence filled the dining hall, for a brief moment. Amelie filled her plate with more salad, while Sombra chewed on more sirloin, her eyes darting from Reaper to Doomfist every few seconds. Reaper blinked twice behind his mask before responding.

"The doc? What does she have to do with this?"

"She is the key to restoring your body. I'm sure Sombra can fill you in on the details, later,"

Reaper swiveled his head towards Sombra, who stopped chewing, realizing she was the new topic of discussion.

"… Que?" she garbled, small flecks of meat flying form her mouth.

Doomfist brought the attention back to him.

"In the mean time, let us enjoy this meal, and revel in our first victory against our enemies. I'm sure you-" he gestured towards Reaper, "-of all people need something to eat,"

Reaper scoffed, knowing this guy knew more than he let on. Reaper was nothing more than a cloud of smoke taking the form of the man he once was. He had no heart, no muscles, no bones, no stomach, not even taste buds. Food meant nothing to him, but he'd humor his boss.

"Whatever," he said.

Reaper pulled down his hood and removed his mask, baring his burnt, scarred face once more. He reached for the silverware, and remembered why he wore the mask. His upside down reflection on the spoon stared him back at him, stretched and warped. Talon may have given him the mask to hide his identity from their enemies, but Reaper wore it another reason; to hide him from himself.

He hated what Talon had turned him into. Everyday, his cells decayed and renewed themselves. Everyday his body felt lifeless, yet alive. What did they do to him?

Reaper felt something warm grasp his shoulder. He turned to see Amélie, her hand upon him, her face smiling gently at him, full of compassion, understanding, kindness. He hated it.

He didn't need her pity; he needed results, and he was certain this thing beside him wasn't going to get him any. He hated to admit it, but the more he looked at her, the more he actually missed Widowmaker.

Reaper shrugged her hand off and began cutting his sirloin. Amélie drew back her hand, but kept smiling. She knew he didn't care for what had happened to her, but it didn't matter. She was happy, and that was all she cared about. She'd repay her debt to Doomfist, that was certain.

Reaper couldn't remember the last time he had eaten anything; there simply was no need for nourishment because of what he was. But just by looking at the steak, he could tell how it was made, what seasoning coated it, what parts were tender and juicy, and what parts were tough and lean.

He cut through it and saw the read center of the meat break through the opening; medium well, just how he liked it. He pressed his fork down into the cut piece of meat, and put it in his mouth, feeling it on his tongue, chewing it with his teeth.

It tasted like dust.


	16. Chapter 14

Hey! Sorry about the long hiatus. School was kickin my butt! But I kicked right back! And I'm not on academic probation anymore so yeah! Hope you all had a good school year! It's summer! So, this story will continue! Hopefully we can finish it by the end of the summer? We will see. I hope my following hasn't forgotten about me. If so, then oh well. I'm here now! And I'm going to keep making chapters! They will be shorter than the previous, so that I don't burn myself out, but maybe once in a while you will get long ass chapters like before haha. Here it is!

XXXX

The journey had taken more out of them than they had hoped, leaving even Tracer numb to the sensation of flight. The rush of the turbulence, the view of the world, the company of the clouds; it all seemed dull and drab by this point. Everyone on the dropship either was asleep or spoke amongst themselves, not bothering to look out and behold the sky surrounding them. But for Alejandra, the sky was the only thing that had her attention.

All her life she had lived in Dorado, with no experience of the outside world; only enough time to bake and read. Sure she had a vast view of the ocean, but it paled in comparison to the sky. She was among the clouds, looking down on what ever they flew over, like birds of prey on the hunt.

The dropship was being piloted by Athena, leaving the need for a physical pilot unnecessary. Alejandra climbed into the pilot's seat and watched the never ending stretch of sky roll past the windshield. She still couldn't believe what was happening around her, if she was going to be completely honest. Her whole world was flipped upside down with no warning, no signs, no sympathy. Her livelihood taken in the blink of an eye; her house burnt to the ground, her mother murdered.

Alejandra felt the rage build up again, the kind you know you shouldn't think about but you can't help but let it flow. They'd pay. They'd all pay for what they did. The Deadlock gang, Los Muertos, Talon, they all had taken something from her, and she was planning on returning the favor.

"Welcome to Eichenwalde,"

The monotone voice of Athena snapped Alejandra back to reality, making her release the arm rests she didn't realize she was squeezing. Letting out a quick gasp, Alejandra bolted from her seat and tip toed over the control panel, peering through the windshield.

She could feel the dropship make its steady descent, like that feeling in your head when an elevator moves too quickly. The clouds were above them, out of sight and out of mind, replaced by a new spectacle. A castle, stretching so high its pillars threatened the clouds themselves. Alejandra's eyes widened, watching the stone behemoth loom over her as Athena brought the ship closer, preparing to land.

"That's Eichenwalde castle?." Alejandra said, aloud, "I've only seen pictures of it. It's a whole lot bigger, up close,"

"It isn't a castle. It's a tomb," Reinhardt grumbled from behind.

Alejandra swiveled her head as far as she could to see the Crusader, standing behind her, a melancholy gaze cast upon the castle. She had researched all the battles and tragedies of the Omnic Crisis. She knew why Reinhardt looked at the fortress with such disdain.

She turned to face Reinhardt, who kept staring at the castle, lost in memory. The only thing that snapped him back to the present was the gentle touch of Alejandra's small had on his own. He blinked and looked down, her bright smile washing away the grief.

 _What a kind and pure girl_ , Reinhardt thought, _Surely she will make a fine warrior!_

"Sorry, Kleine," Reinhardt said, recapturing his natural smile, "I can't wait to give you the grand tour!"

Athena gingerly landed the dropship in the center of the bridge that connected the castle to the rest of the town. A deep, satisfying crunch of metal touching down on stone alerted everyone they had landed. They staggered out of the ship, having had their fill of jet lag; though Alejandra and Tracer bolted out, ready to sight-see, with Reinhardt not too far behind.

"Ah, fresh German air," he said, soaking in the atmosphere of his home country.

His smile broadened as his eyes scanned the horizon. The trees of the Black Forest peered above the stone archways and houses, like titans watching over a city. Large shadows sluggishly crawled upon the ground, as the clouds which cast them shifted across the sky. Though Eichenwalde was a city of wood and stone, nature had reclaimed it over the years. Vines and leaves had snaked their way through nooks and cracks in the floors. A red squirrel would scurry in and out of its hole every now and then, eying its new neighbors, ready to pounce on the smaller one if she got too close.

"German air?" replied Angela, leaning against her German friend, groggy from the trip, "Is there a difference between this and any other air?"

Reinhardt cackled, "Of course there is! You Swiss wouldn't know because you're all neutral about everything!"

Angela rebutted the quip with a roll of the eyes and strode off to find the commander. She found Jack deep in a stern conversation with Torbjorn. With what, she struggled to decipher, but the subject clearly was having an unpleasant effect on the small mechanic.

Slowly, Angela approached behind Jack, careful not to be noticed by either man, lest she be dragged into the quarrel against her will. Finally, Torbjorn stormed off, dragging his stumpy feet across the tiled bridge. It seemed Jack had won the argument. Angela patiently waited a few feet behind her commander, letting him collect himself.

He hated fighting with his team. It slowed things down, made simple tasks seem impossible, put chinks in the armor. Jack needed his armor bullet proof, and he wasn't talking about the armor on his chest. The sound of Angela clearing her throat grabbed his attention.

"Ah, Ange," he said, turning about-face, "Perfect. I need you to set up your station. There is an abandoned pharmacy not too far from here. Get your supplies and-"

"All in good time, Jack. There is something I need to talk to you about,"

Jack couldn't say he wasn't surprised by the interruption; Angela spoke her mind on a daily basis. But the fact that she didn't get straight to the point was almost startling.

"Okay. What's up?"

XXXX

Sorry for the shorter chapter. I just needed to get my feet wet again after the long break from writing. Another chapter should be up within the week! And this time I will not break that promise. Haha! Yeah, I know, not a lot happened but bear with me. The next one will have more content I promise.

I just wanted you all to know this story isn't dead! Thank you for your support! I still look at all your comments from time to time to keep inspiring me to move forward with the story! Until next time!


	17. Chapter 15

Hey! Another shorter chapter but to keep up with my weekly schedule I needed to compromise. Hope you all enjoy it!

XXX

"Sombra!" Reaper yelled, finally locating the hacker after she left the dinner table.

Sombra was accompanying Amélie to her room, conversing about what it felt like not being a blue skinned, cold hearted assassin. They were interrupted when they heard the raspy voice of their favorite living shadow, screeching down the hallway. He seemed pissed. About what? They would find out soon enough. Reaper marched up to Sombra, shoulders hunched like broken branches, his foot falls echoing with each step.

"Oh! Hey, Gabe!" Sombra replied, unmoved by her hooded friend's hostile demeanor.

He stopped two feet in front of her, "You know something about me. What do you know?!" Reaper demanded, pointing a finger so edgy, the tip threatened to pierce Sombra's nose. She blinked twice, eying the point of Reaper's index finger, then remembered what he was talking about.

"Ooh. You mean about your ghosting problem!" She said, pushing the finger away.

Reaper did not appreciate Sombra's clueless facade. The fact that it was her she needed to talk to was already a nuisance.

"What. Do. You. Know," he asked.

"Eh… the details are a little fuzzy..." Sombra fibbed, egging him on even further.

He'd had enough. Reaper choked Sombra's coat by the collar and pulled her so close, she had to lean back to keep from kissing his mask. Sombra felt as if her soul was going to be ripped out of her.

"Tell me!" he ordered, making Sombra flinch at the volume of his voice.

"Gabriel!"

Before anyone could say another word, Amélie put herself between the two, pressing her hand against Reaper's chest and shoving him back. He staggered backward, stunned by his partner's reaction. Then he remembered; she wasn't his partner. Amélie faced Reaper, keeping her back towards Sombra, akin to a lioness protecting a cub. Sombra stared and could only muster one word, "… Woah,"

The emotion disgusted Reaper. Why did Doomfist do this to her? He ruined a perfectly good colleague. Though, that wasn't something Reaper wanted to speculate on. All he cared about was what Sombra knew about his condition. He threw up his arms half way, signaling Amélie to calm down. She obliged by nodding and stepping aside, gesturing Sombra to speak.

"Well..." she began, "I don't know everything. But, what I do know if that this-," she waved her finger at Reaper, lazily, "was caused by Project: Resurrection,".

Reaper almost flinched at the mention of that name. Resurrection. It was years since he heard that word. It was such a well kept Overwatch secret, that Sombra's mentioning it felt like an invasion of privacy.

"How the hell do you know about that?" he growled.

Sombra raised an eyebrow, "Uh, world's greatest hacker, Gabe?"

Reaper rolled his eyes and gestured her to continue.

"Anyway. After you blew up the Swiss base, Talon found you and Angela Ziegler. They forced her to complete the project and test it on you,"

That last sentence hit Reaper in the gut, like a blast from a helix rocket. The doc tested it on him? Did that means he really died? Did she know who he was this whole time? Too many questions. He'd find her and have them all answered.

"So," he started, "we find her and she fixes what she screwed up,"

"That's the plan," Sombra nodded.

Reaper ran his hand over the top of his hood, realizing an immediate problem.

"She could be anywhere by now. We'd have to wait for another lead,"

Sombra tapped her lips, recalling something she had read in the Overwatch agent database. A smirk crawled onto her face as she remembered.

"We may already have one," she said.

Reaper's head swiveled to face Sombra, a twitch of hope ticking in his chest.

"One of our targets was an understudy of the good doctor," Sombra continued, "Maybe we could squeeze something out of him?"

Hope wasn't something Reaper was accustomed to, being a man who preferred shooting his way to victory. However, in that moment, those words made him want to get on his knees and pray, maybe even kiss Sombra's shoes. Of course he wouldn't, but he was damn close to doing either those.

"It's worth a shot," he replied, folding his arms across his chest.

"Like hitting two birds with one stone," Sombra said, colliding her fist into her open palm.

Reaper turned on his heal to head down the hall, towards the ship.

"Unless one of them flies away. Come on," he barked, waving Sombra over.

Sombra and Amelie side glanced each other, the former giving a small shrug and asked, "You comin', amiga?"

"I think it would be better if I go on my own mission," Amélie replied, hesitation dripping from her voice, "Besides, I doubt he wants me around anyway,"

The two watched as Reaper turned the corner, out of their line of sight. Sombra rolled her eyes. Either Reaper was going to get over it or Amelie was going to go blue again. Sombra couldn't tell which she'd prefer. She was used to the cold, monotonous Widow she knew, but Amélie was more lively (and pretty hot without the blue skin, Sombra had to admit). She decided to let fate handle things. She had other plans.

"Eh, suit yourself!" she said, and bolted to catch up with Reaper.

Amélie watched as Sombra also disappeared behind the corner of the hall. For the first time since she last saw Gerard, she felt alone.

XXX

sorry for the shorter chapter. Some depressing shit from the past showed up again and heh. I just wanted to post up what I had. A day late. My bad! Hope you all enjoy it!


	18. Chapter 16

So…. Yeah I am so sorry! I make too many promises I cannot keep. Too much stuff got in the way so yeah I couldn't get out the chapters in the orderly fashion that I wanted. But here is the next chapter! Thank you so much for all the readers who commented/critiqued! You guys helped me pull through and get off my lazy ass to actually start writing again! HAHAHA! Anyway, here is the new chapter!

XXXX

"What do you mean you have to leave?" Jack asked, stern eyes piercing Angela's firm gaze.

Angela stared back, unmoved by Jack's interrogative tone. She was the second person who never backed down in Jack's presence. The only other individual to do so was Director Petras, now President Petras of the United States. Angela took in a breath, the fresh oxygen running through her calmed the nerves.

"I need to complete some unfinished business. I can't do that here." she stated.

Frustration began to well up in Jack like a geyser. He knew exactly what Angela was talking about and she knew exactly how ridiculous he thought it was.

"Angela, we've talked about this," Jack said, pressing his palm over his eyes.

"Yes, I know but Jack, times have changed. Technology has changed. I know that, with the proper tools, I can complete Resurrection!"

Angela wouldn't admit it, but she felt like a high school girl talking to her disapproving father. She was completely capable of leaving without his permission but she couldn't help but ask for it anyway. It was instinctual for all of them to go to Jack when he was around, like second nature, regardless of the circumstance. Everyone felt ashamed if he did not support the idea. Not this time, though. She'd get his approval this time. Jack said, "Why the sudden interest? You could have done this before the Recall. Why now?"

She couldn't tell Jack the truth, or rather, didn't want to. She still wasn't sure who she could tell. All Angela knew was Jack was not ready to find out.

"I was needed elsewhere. You know how I am, Jack,"

Jack let out a long sigh, gripping the opposite ends of his forehead between finger and thumb. Yes, he knew her. She was probably out there saving lives, mending wounds, healing scars, all across the globe. He supposed it made sense why she only now thought of the old project. Still, he knew something else had triggered her to continue the work. The question was: why not tell him?

Jack took a quick glance at Angela before speaking his mind. Angela's stomach churned with a hot anticipation, the feeling spreading to the back of her throat and tongue.

"I don't know what it is you're hiding from me," Jack said, "but you don't need my permission to leave, Ange,"

The doctor let out a sly chuckle, "Well, I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye,"

Jack smiled and shook his head, still not believing Angela's secrecy, but knew that she'd open up in due time. He trusted her to do what was best for the world. "Where are you going, anyway?" he asked.

A slight tension gripped the air before Angela spoke, "Oasis," she said, locking eyes with Jack.

The commander couldn't say he was surprised. Oasis was the spearhead for scientific advancement, free from any legal or moral boundaries. However, the facility was located in Pakistan of all places. Tensions were still high between the Pakistani and Omnic civilians. Dozens on both sides were shot up every day. He was already formulating a plan to keep her safe, whether she liked it or not. With another sigh and a scratch of his neck, Jack asked, "What do you need?"

Angela beamed from ear to ear. She had her commander's support.

"Well," she started, "I'll need a ride to the airport,"

Jack nodded and noticed Brigitte out of the corner of his eye, helping Alejandra move a crate of supplies. "Brigitte!" he barked.

The young mechanic dropped the supply crate she and Alejandra were carrying. The large box hit the stone floor with a thud, almost crushing Alejandra's toes. She growled under her breath while Brigitte awkwardly stood at attention.

"Yessir!" she boomed.

"When the good doctor is ready," Jack started, "please escort her to the nearest airport,"

Brigitte quick glanced Angela, who maintained her usual charming smile, and nodded, "You got it, boss!"

The pair then resumed their task of moving the heavy crate, while Jack and Angela resumed their discussion. "Anything else?" he asked, hoping that was all.

Angela gripped her chin between her finger and thumb, knitting her brows together, thinking. After a brief pause, she brought her gaze back up to Jack, "I need to make a call,"

XXXX

Late night shifts sucked ass. That was all Samuel Traynor could think about as he dozed off in the driver seat of his Acura TS1000, with the auto pilot activated of course. The car cruised down the quiet street of Sam's neighborhood, the street lights lazily illuminating the dull, abrasive surface of the asphalt; the stars seemed brighter by comparison. He could not wait to revel in the comfort of his own home and relax in the warm embrace of his wife. The surgery he had preformed tonight was long and arduous. He guessed that was just part of the job by this point. He had almost completely entered the realm of subconsciousness when the invasive noise of a bluetooth ringer went off, ripping Sam from his premature slumber. Sitting up, he checked the caller ID on the dashboard monitor and had to double check to make sure he read the name correctly.

"Angela?" he said to himself, out loud.

He tapped the accept icon, letting the call go through.

"Angela, hey!" he said, both awkwardly and joyfully, "Long time, no talk,"

The soothing voice of Dr. Ziegler hummed through the speakers, "Greetings, Sam. It is good to hear your voice, again,"

Sam let a smile escape his dry lips. It was always a pleasure to listen to the good doctor. Was it the gentle Swiss accent? The nurturing tone of her voice? He couldn't say, but he was indeed grateful he was listening to her now.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Angela?" he asked as his car kept driving down the slumbering neighborhood street.

There was a brief pause on the other end, a pause that gives the impression that a bomb was about to drop on him.

"We have some unfinished business to take care of,"

His blood ran cold. His dry eyes blinked once, then twice. Please don't tell me she means what I think she means, he thought to himself.

"Angela..." he began, his voice soaked in apprehension.

"Please, Sam. You believed in the project. With your help, we could complete it twice as fast,"

"Angela, I can't risk this. Just talking about this could end up with the CIA, or FBI, or whoever the hell, right on my doorstep,"

A soft yet annoyed sigh was audible through the speakers, "Winston set up a secure channel for us. No one can listen in but us,"

Apprehension still gripped Sam like a vice. Resurrection was dead. He had no interest in continuing the project. All he wanted was to provide for his wife.

"I'm sorry," he began, "But I can't help you. I have a wife, we're trying to start a family. I...I can't take that risk,"

"I… understand," Angela replied, disappointment unmistakably laced in her words, "But if you change your mind, I'll be working at Oasis for the time being,"

Sam huffed through his nostrils like an agitated bull. Oasis. He heard rumors of that place, rumors he would rather do without. Unethical experimentation, immoral and unchecked test on unwilling subjects. Of course these were only rumors but Sam was not keen on delving into the truth of it all.

Sam opened his mouth to say his peace, ready to end this conversation, until everything went violet. Every light, every monitor, every LED in Sam's car flared a deep bright violet, flooding the interior of the vehicle with light. As Sam bolted upright he could feel the car accelerate and swerve, left, right, left right, as if the auto pilot downed one too many shots of tequila.

He grabbed the steering wheel, desperately attempting to regain control of his rogue vehicle, but it was no use. No matter which way he turned, the car relentlessly resumed its frantic serpentine pattern. The soothing voice of Angela Ziegler was gone, replaced by the droning hums of the hover car as it repeatedly served side to side.

Sam's car finally veered hard to the left, colliding into the garage of his own house, the metal door folding but still standing. The front of the car was crushed like an accordion, dark smoke rising from the deformed hood. Sam lifted his head from the steering wheel. His brain felt as if it was put through a blender, and then that blender was put into another blender which got caught in a tornado. How could this possibly get any worse, he thought.

As I on cue Sam's driver side door was ripped from its hinges like wet cardboard. Sam jolted back in his seat, turning to face the dark hooded figure before him. Sam struggled to find any words, his breathing too frantic to let out anything but exasperated gasps for air. The hooded man stepped forward, the flickering lights of the garage briefly revealing his ghoulish mask, with puttering bursts of dying light. The hooded ghoul drew a weapon resembling a shot gun of some kind, leveled it at the panicking Sam, and said, "Give your wife my regards,"

Sam had no time to process those words as he felt the collective force of a thousand pellets strike him like a wall of lead, traveling at one thousand feet per second.

After surveying his work, satisfied there was no way the man before him was still alive, the ghoul stepped out of the dilapidated garage and pressed his earpiece, "Did you trace it?"

"More like, 'how fast did you trace it?'", the voice from the earpiece replied, confidence resounding in every word, "Pack your bags, amigo. We're going to Germany,"

A spotlight shot down upon the ghoul as he stood in the vacant street. As Reaper looked up at the Talon aircraft hovering above him, he knew it was only a matter of time before he ran into Jack again. And he would ensure it was the last time.

XXXX

So like, I've been depressed for… a year lol. Hence the super long wait for this chapter. I'm sorry, but when you're in the feels, the feels hold onto ya. XD. But seeing that people still love this story helped motivate me to continue it. So thank you all for your support. I'm sure there are some people who have abandoned this fic but for the others who still held hope that it would continue, here is the next chapter. I hope to get the next one out sooooon because I have been anticipating it for so long. I hope it will meet everyone's expectations. Thank you all, again, for your support! I am doing what I can to recover and improve!


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